


And You Saw Me Low Part 1: A New World

by naarna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Christmas, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, F/M, First Relationship, Muggle Life, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Nightmares, Post-War, Romance, Supervisor Hermione Granger, family revelations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 86,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7255780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naarna/pseuds/naarna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One year after the Second War, Draco wants out, even leave the wizarding community where his family has been put under close scrutiny and supervision. Hermione becomes his new supervisor, and helps him settle in the muggle world. His life is turned upside down when he meets his neighbour...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this FF because I wanted to elaborate on the idea what happened to Draco after the War, because in my opinion, he is not the confident and cocky character at that point that he is described as in many other stories - he is confused, lost, and still haunted by his war memories. I was interested in writing a story that tries to tell how he found back on his feet, with all the good things and the bad. 
> 
> I tried to keep it believable, and many things I use to portray characters in the story are rather personal experiences, so the story itself is also a rather personal project.
> 
> The title of the story is a line from "Only Love", a song by Mumford & Sons that I thought rather appropriate for the complete story.
> 
> Thanks to both my betas—Diana who covered the first six chapters very thoroughly; and now to Suzi who took over and who is just as thorough while being a complete sweetheart about it! :)

 “Granger,” Draco growled when he saw who entered the room he was waiting in. He had been in a bad mood ever since they had demanded his presence at the Ministry for this meeting, but to avoid further problems halfway through his request to leave his home, where he had been stuck under house arrest with his parents until recently, he better did as required. Today was supposed to be the day he would meet his new supervisor to further discuss his request – he just didn't expect it to be _her._

“Malfoy,” she replied sternly, closed the door behind her and finally sat down on the other side of the table.

“Why does it have to be you of all people? Is the universe playing some sort of sick joke on me?”

In response to his cynical remark about the situation, she looked him straight in the eye, but didn't grace him with a verbal response just yet.

Great. She wasn't in a good mood either, and she wasn't going to put up with any nonsense from him, this much Draco understood from her stare in that moment. He sighed in frustration.

“Because someone had to after the Ministry decided to grant your request,” she finally replied, her voice still sounding stern and calm, and opened the file she had brought along, containing everything regarding his request. “You can call yourself lucky that your former supervisor let you move out of the Manor prior to that decision...”

Her calm exterior annoyed him further; he wanted some reaction out of her, even if it only was for some relief. It seemed he just couldn't escape her, neither in his nightmares, where he repeatedly dreamed about her torture in the Manor, nor in reality, where she was now his supervisor. He wanted to bang his head on the table, maybe she might go away then, and leave him alone. “And the Ministry thought it was a good joke to appoint you to be my probation officer?” He didn't even try to hide his annoyance.

“I wasn't appointed,” she said matter-of-factly, without looking up from the file. She was apparently checking one more time whether she had all the necessary documents. “I volunteered.”

_That_ was even worse, she did this on purpose. Draco sighed. “Why? I just want to leave, I'm not a charity case-”

“You don't have a choice.” Her voice was still calm, but now changed to a stricter tone. “Believe me, you're lucky that I could manage to keep them from putting the Trace on you, they are that paranoid. And you know that your parents are Traced...”

Draco growled. She was helping him, and it still annoyed him to no end. Maybe it was more because he couldn't get those images from her torture out of his head; the barely hidden scar on her wrist didn't really help either. Beneath his annoyance, however, he was glad that she could avoid the Trace, so that he could have some anonymity and privacy. It just didn't have to be _her_! What if she would use this opportunity to get back at him for not helping her when he could have? All he wanted right now was to disappear from the wizarding community, to be left alone, and not being put at the mercy of someone who had all the right to hate him and his family. This was going to be a bad day, and probably an even worse night. He sighed when he realised that she was still watching him, but he refused to say a word.

“You asked why I volunteered,” she continued after a few long moments of rather awkward silence between them. “I did it because everyone else in the department would've had a field day with you at their mercy. I wasn't going to let them have it.”

“But-”

“Let me finish, Malfoy. Then we can establish the rest.” She glared at him, not hiding her dislike for him.

She and her bloody sense of justice. Draco just plain glared back, waiting for her to continue.

“We've had our disputes back then at Hogwarts, to put it nicely. But you are just as much a victim of that bloody war as I was, as Harry was-”

“Leave Golden Boy out of it,” he groaned, not liking being put in the same category as his old rival, though he had grudgingly acknowledged before that he owed Potter quite a lot for being kept out of Azkaban. “Just get to the point, will you?”

She breathed in deeply, her first acknowledgement of another emotion other than calmness. “I know the whole story, Malfoy. I was at _every single_ hearing and trial concerning your family. Harry testified, I testified-”

“Granger, please!”

“All I want to say is that you didn't have a choice back then, and that's what Harry and I testified to.”

He sighed again. Bloody Gryffindors! “Keep your pity. I don't want it.”

“I don't pity you. You do that perfectly well yourself,” she retorted, in a still calm, but now rather icy voice. “All I want is to make sure you get a chance to get out. Because I think you _finally_ understand what it's like to be at the receiving end of insults and threats, a thing Muggle-borns had to live with for a long time and especially under Voldemort.”

He winced at the name of the Dark Lord and she was all so matter-of-fact about it. But yes, he did finally understand what it's like to be at the receiving end and he hated it.

“Listen,” she continued, still staring at him without really blinking. “I know you don't like me at all, the feeling's mutual, believe me. But right now it is my name and my reputation as a _war hero_ ,” she sneered at the last words, “and the fact that I volunteered despite our not so wonderful history together that gives you that chance.”

Draco wanted to retort something to relieve some of his still lingering annoyance, but he did understand what she was actually doing for him. Instead, he sighed, and rubbed his temples for a little while, as he felt a headache coming.

“Looks like we have an understanding,” she said after a few seconds, her voice as well as her face softening again.

He nodded, albeit reluctantly, and then he could see something resembling a smile on her face.

“So,” she continued, looking through the documents in front of her, trying to find a specific one, “since you have _very_ little knowledge about how to live in the Muggle world... I know you never paid attention in Muggle studies as long as you had to take it, Malfoy.”

“Wasn't my favourite class.”

“You might have learned something, though the class severely needs an update-”

“As I said.”

“Right. I’ll help you with getting a place and organising the financial aspects with Gringotts as it has neither ATM’s nor a branch in the Muggle world, but works closely with a Muggle bank that serves squibs and wizards that stay outside the wizarding community.” She finally found the document she was looking for while speaking. “You might want to take a close look at this small list of books I prepared.”

He took the list from her, and quickly scanned it. “You call this a _small_ list?”

“Yes. And you would do well to read them.”

“Are you serious? No, I'm not going-”

“You will if you want to survive in the Muggle world without being exposed as a wizard. You know what happens if you are...”

Oh yes, he knew the consequences pretty well. Being put under house arrest with his parents again was the smallest of them, though that was the one that motivated him the most, he simply didn't want to go back to them, or they might kill each other in one of their near-constant arguments. He sighed.

“Good, I see you understand the situation. Now, my conditions-”

“I assume you're going to be just as strict as my previous supervisor,” he said, going through the book list rather absent-mindedly, his previous annoyance slowly changing into a realisation that he should better cooperate with her, though he didn't really trust her yet.

“No, I don't think so.” She looked at him, as if she was trying to make a decision. “From what I've read in your file, you were required to keep your family's supervisor informed almost daily, with unannounced visits and wand checks.”

He nodded. The wand checks were what usually pissed him off the most whenever they came up because he could always clearly see that the supervisor didn't trust him at all, despite the fact that nothing suspicious ever showed up.

“I think that was a bit too harsh,” she continued. “So I propose the following: I'll help you settle in at your new place, show you how most of the stuff works, which might take some time. After that, maybe a month of weekly check-ins from you, and when I think you're fully settled in, we might reduce it to once every two weeks, with further reduction possible depending on your behaviour.”

Draco looked up from the list, surprised at the rather long leash she was willing to give him. And from her short smirk, that surprise was probably even visible on his face for a couple of split seconds. “Again, why?”

“Because I can,” she replied, not quite able to hide her amusement under the still rather serious tone. “However, I will still check in on you unannounced to make sure everything's okay and you comply with the rest of the conditions, but way less than your previous supervisor.”

“You do realise that you are basically letting me run loose in the Muggle world-”

“I know. I take that risk.”

“Why?”

She sighed. “I may not like you, but I know you're smart enough not to muck it up. After all, you were a close second in our year-”

“Close? Granger, you're in your own league, seriously.”

That remark made her smirk shortly. “Maybe.”

“Will my parents know where I am?” he asked after a few seconds of less awkward silence.

“No, unless you want them to. You're an adult, and you can hence decide for yourself.”

He nodded appreciatively. “I just want to get as far away as possible from that place. It drives me crazy and they drive me crazy,” he finally admitted, slightly alluding to the horrors they both went through in the Manor.

Hermione nodded, but said nothing. She wasn't here for talking about that night, but she seemed to understand the feeling. “One option on my list would be a bit up north, in a suburban area of a smaller town, Hull, not too far from a school. It might be rather simple compared to what you're probably used to-”

“I take it.” Simple sounded good; he wanted simple, not something that would constantly remind him of the Manor.

With a small expression of surprise she wrote something down in her notes. “Hull it is, then.”

“How fast can I move in?” he asked when she was finished writing.

“I probably need a couple of days to organise everything.” She fished for another document in the file, and checked it once more when she found it. “Though I need your signature under this certificate of authority, so that I can deal with Gringotts in your name to set up an account with the Muggle bank I mentioned before. I won't be able to empty your vaults, don't worry. It only grants me the right to set up those accounts and have some monthly sum transferred or however you want it.”

“You will probably never come across that much money in your life as is in there,” he replied with a smirk, while reading the certificate she had just handed him.

“Whatever. Sign it and I can set everything in motion.”

He nodded and then took the quill she was offering to sign the certificate. There was some sort of relief in signing that document; he knew now that he would get his wish of being mostly left alone for a while, though he would never admit that to Granger.

“I'll have the books delivered to where you're staying at the moment, and you can pay the messenger.” She checked his file again. “You're really staying at the Leaky Cauldron?” She looked at him rather incredulously, but no longer with an annoyed expression.

“The one. I don't want to bother anyone else.”

“Okay. I'll come by as soon as everything's organised.” She closed the file.” That's everything so far.”

“I guess I should probably say thanks,” he commented, suppressing another sigh.

“Yeah, you probably should, but that's a start,” she replied with a rather genuine looking smile, then got up. “See you in a couple of days, Malfoy.”

He got up as well, partly glad that the meeting was finally over, and partly glad that it didn't go as bad as he had feared in the beginning, though the headache was still throbbing its way to the surface. “See you.”

 


	2. Exploding Vases

"This is the place we were talking about at our meeting," Hermione said when they arrived two days later, on a surprisingly hot day in mid-July, at his new home in the midst of a Muggle neighbourhood in Hull.

"It really is simple," Draco commented, taking in the front of the two-storey house, painted in a greyish white.

"Let's get inside, your stuff is heavy enough." Hermione fumbled with the house key after taking it out of her own bag, and made for the door, while Draco tried to carry his trunk through the small front yard; the rest of his things that he had been allowed to take with him were stowed away in several additional bags.

Once inside, Draco put his trunk on the ground, and let out a groan while getting back up. He never knew that his wizarding equipment would be _this_ heavy. "Finally!"

Hermione nodded. "I did what I could to get everything up and running, and fit for a wizard living here."

"I'll manage, or if not, I'll send you a letter to complain." Draco started walking around on the ground floor, taking a closer look at his new home. It was indeed simple compared to the Manor, but it also had a comfortable feel to it. The ground floor consisted of a living room with a dining area, a small entry hall and a separate kitchen, all carefully and surprisingly tastefully furnished. Yes, he was sure that this would do nicely.

"You'll find the bathroom upstairs, as well as the master bedroom and two spare rooms. I recommend you hide your wizarding equipment in one of the spare rooms..."

He nodded; he'll check the first floor later. "I see, further books to enlighten me about Muggle life," he commented amused when he saw the bookshelf next to the fireplace.

"Not really, just some authors I figured you might like. There are quite a few book shops in town should you need more. I filled the fridge and the pantry with the most important supplies-"

"And you even managed to decorate the whole thing. In two days. Did you even sleep, Granger?"

"I've had a bit of help. Now, want to go straight to town and check out a few things, or want to get yourself settled first today and we'll do the trip to the town tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is soon enough."

Hermione didn't just come back the following day, but spend the good part of the following two weeks to show him how Muggle things worked, starting from simple appliances in his kitchen, such as the gas stove, and the fridge, to everything he could come across in town, such as public transport, when he would have to show his ID card, and most importantly how to pay with his account card, and how to get Muggle money at the ATM; he found the conversion between wizarding money and the British Pound easy enough.

After those two weeks, when Hermione thought that he had now got the hang of most things, she reduced their contact to a weekly update from him and an unannounced visit from her about every two weeks. His updates mostly reported the few things he did or experienced, and sometimes found hilarious or fascinating from his wizarding point of view, but almost always ended with an update on his reading list. Yes, he did settle in quite nicely in that period, and Hermione seemed to think the same when she extended the leash even further by reducing their contact to updates every two weeks and about as many unannounced visits to make sure that everything was still going well. This was an arrangement that Draco could very well live with, as it meant that he would be mostly left alone, and finally given some space to breathe and think about his new life, especially what he wanted to do with it. He was still only nineteen after all, left with a shattered and thoroughly questioned world view, and a seriously strained relationship with his parents after the Second War had ended a little over a year ago. He just wanted to leave it all behind – at least for a while.

In addition, he decided to use the chance of anonymity and show a new side of his personality whenever he came in contact with people on his single trips to the town; he didn't just leave the wizarding world behind, but also his sneering and snobbish behaviour. However, he would never admit it to Granger in any of his updates, but for the first time in a long while he felt something like peace, even loved the aspect of not having to meet any expectations, and just do what he wanted, such as go out and have a drink, or just stay in and try to figure out the Muggle technology Granger had called a telly, or just read his way through the books she had already provided him with. He would also never admit that he had started to see her in a new light, even appreciated her efforts to help him.

Besides all that, he liked that his neighbours were normally quiet people as well, not disturbing him, as he didn't disturb them. And he didn't mind the children too much, Granger had told him that the house was close to a school, and he could always hear them leave for school or come back home afterwards; it was almost like a clock, telling him the time of day. Just like the small boy living next door who came back home at almost the same time every day, and which he had heard in the garden with his mother on weekends. Yes, Draco liked his solitude.

* * *

 

It was a late summer day in early September when Draco had decided to stay home, as he suffered from a slight hangover after a night out at that little wine bar not too far away, including a bit of a headache, that he finally came in contact with the neighbour boy.

Draco was lounging on his sofa, and reading one of his new books, when he was distracted by the sounds of a fight which apparently took place just in front of his house. As the fighting didn't stop after several minutes, he decided to get up and check what was going on. Opening his front door, he discovered that it was a fight between three boys, with one of them already lying on the ground, and the other two still kicking and hitting him; Draco recognised the boy on the ground as the neighbour boy.

Muggle children weren't that different to wizarding children, as Draco realised; they bullied and fought each other just as much. And he had been a bully himself back at Hogwarts, occasionally picking on those he considered weak, but that had always been easy and, hence, usually boring. No, he had always preferred to take on those who could defend themselves, especially the Golden Trio with their moral compass – Potter, Weasley, and especially Granger, whose punch in third year he still remembered. Yes, he had preferred to see his bullying as a challenge of getting the better of Potter and his gang; and it had always been hugely satisfying when he succeeded. Though the weaker students at Hogwarts still sometimes had to suffer his bad mood when he didn't succeed, being at the receiving end of a well-placed insult or hex; but kicking the hell out of a weaker child? Or the magic equivalent of hexing them unconscious? Never. He’d never done that, and he wasn't going to tolerate it now.

That was why Draco went outside, already irritated about the fight in front of his house, which only added to his headache. With a discreet move of his wand, he cast a small Leg-Locker Curse on the attacking boys, which bound their legs together and hence caused them to fall hard on the ground. Before those two bullies even understood what was happening, Draco was already leaning over them, with the deadliest glare he could master. “Don't you two dare **fighting** anywhere near my house. EVER. AGAIN. And you leave him alone. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the boys stammered, both paralysed by fear and the still lingering jinx.

“Pick fights with someone your own size, who can defend themselves, understood?” Draco growled, and could see the boys shiver from fear, the sight made him smirk shortly.

“Yes, s-sir.”

Ah yes, the smell and look of fear in others. Draco remembered that he used to like to see it on the face of others back at Hogwarts, as long as he had been the cause of it; as a child, this had been the only way he had been taught by his father to get the respect his family was owed. Now, his view was changing, yet he still liked to see the fear on the face of those two bullies. “If I ever hear about you bullying him again, you will wish you've never been born, I will personally make sure of that. Understood?”

“We w-won't... sir.”

With another devious smirk, Draco revoked the Curse silently, and then watched the boys realise that they could move again; they were up and running away in seconds.

“Thank you.” A small voice from behind him made Draco turn around. The neighbour boy was still lying on the ground, his school uniform slightly torn in places and with a lot of stains; he had blond hair, and his green eyes had a tired look. Draco helped him back up. “You okay?”

The boy nodded, dusting off his uniform while he tried to hide his pain. “I got to go, my mum's probably waiting.”

Draco knew that the boy's mother wasn't probably home yet, as she seemed to be a single parent with a job, as far as he had noticed over the garden hedge in his first few weeks after his arrival; he had never heard a male voice, only ever the boy and his mother. So he watched the boy walk over to the house next door and get inside, before he would go back inside himself.

 

The next afternoon, Draco discovered the boy in his garden, seemingly nervously waiting for him to come outside. “How did you get here?” he asked politely when he came outside.

“T-There's a hole in the edge,” the boy said, looking to the ground. “I just wanted to give you this as a thank you,” he then said, and handed Draco a piece of paper, his hand trembling.

Draco smiled when he saw what the boy had drawn – him driving the bullies away, with big letters spelling _Thank You_ in a corner. “Thanks.”

“Also, Mum said that I should apologise that we fought in front of your house. She said that you don't like to be disturbed.”

“It's okay.” Draco crouched down to the boy's level. “You didn't get injured?” Now that he had a closer look, the boy reminded Draco of himself when he was about the same age – about seven, Draco guessed – it was the same shade of blond, about the same size, even the face seemed vaguely similar, except for the eyes; the boy's eyes were a deep green compared to his pale grey ones.

The boy shook his head. “Just a couple of bruises, but Mum didn't really notice. She was just annoyed that the uniform was torn again.”

“She wasn't angry with you?”

“No.”

“What's your name?” Draco asked then. “That way I know who gave me this nice drawing...”

“Tom.”

“I'm Draco. And really thanks for the drawing.” Smiling friendly, he held up the rolled-up piece of paper in his hand.

“That's a funny name,” Tom commented straightforward, mustering Draco more curiously.

“In my family, everyone has a name like this. We are all named after star constellations.”

Now Tom smiled broadly, and started to relax in Draco's presence. “I like stars. I have a lot of books about them at home.”

“You know a lot about them, then?”

Tom nodded vigorously. “Yes. And I want to study them when I'm grown up. But Mum said that I have to be really good at maths to study them...”

Draco thought that Tom would be immensely fascinated by the centaurs who always seemed to stare at the stars and planets. He had found them weird back then at Hogwarts, much more like animals than proper intelligent beings. “Is your mother home now?” he then asked.

Tom shook his head. “No, she's still at work.”

“And your father?” Draco knew that this question was essentially pointless, but he was still curious.

“Mum says that he died when I was a baby.”

Draco was surprised how matter-of-factly Tom stated this, but the boy might have never actually known his father anyway. “I'm sorry about that.” And it reminded him how many people had lost family members in the War, a thought he still had to come to terms with.

“I better go. Mum said I should do my homework before she gets home.”

“If you want, you can do it here. I probably can't help you much with it, but you wouldn't be alone.”

Tom smiled again, relieved that he didn't have to spend those hours on his own for once. He hated it because he was alone since his grandparents lived too far away, and his mother hadn't yet found someone to watch over him when she wasn't home. But Draco seemed nice enough – after all he had saved him by chasing those bullies away. So Tom followed Draco inside, immediately feeling a sense of home.

“You can do your homework at the table,” Draco said, when they were inside. “Want something to drink? Though I only have water or tea here.”

“Nah, I'm fine, but thanks.” Tom settled himself at the table, then started to pull out his homework while Draco picked up the book he had been reading the day before and sat down on the other side.

“Why would they bully you, those boys from yesterday?” Draco asked when Tom finished spreading his homework on the table.

“They don't like me.” Tom sighed. “Sometimes funny things happen when I'm in a room and get all upset or angry, but I can't control anything.”

“What kind of funny things?”

“I usually make things fly when it happens. Or sometimes things explode,” Tom answered quietly, without looking up from the instruction sheet of his homework.

Draco stared at Tom for a moment, trying to sort what he just heard. Could it be that Tom was an undiscovered Muggle-born wizard, and just didn't know it yet? Draco remembered the day the magic manifested in him for the first time; he had made an expensive vase explode. He hadn't even meant to, he was just looking at the pattern because he had been so bored by the conversation between the adults that day. His father had scolded him for destroying such an expensive collection item, while his mother had been happy that her only son finally showed magic. It had taken him longer than they had expected, and he also remembered that they had been arguing previously about the possible shame of having a squib for a son. Yes, he remembered that, as a boy, he wished he wasn't going to turn out to be a squib, so as not to disappoint his father. But instead, he had become a rather capable wizard – if it hadn't been for Granger, he would have been best in his year. Still, his first manifestation of magic had been a scary moment for him. And if he already was scared by it, having been surrounded by all things magic since birth, how scary must it be for someone who had no apparent connection to the wizarding world, or magic? Draco realised that he had never before thought about this; he had to smile about the silly idea he used to have as a boy about Muggle-borns, that those children were picked and turned by the Ministry, why else would they let someone like Granger enter Hogwarts? Why he would believe something like that in the first place he didn't know anymore, but found it somewhat funny now.

The rest of the afternoon passed with them sitting at the table in a shared silence, either occupied with homework or reading. Draco though alternated between reading a page and watching Tom concentrating on solving a task in his homework.

 

The sun had already gone down, and night was slowly crawling up, when they heard a knock at the front door. Draco was a bit surprised because no one really ever knocked at his door, even the post man knew better. He looked at Tom before he decided to get up to answer the door. Outside, he found a woman ready to knock again, looking slightly nervous. He immediately recognised the hair colour as well as the eyes, she looked surprisingly like her son.

“Hi, I'm Helen, your next-door neighbour. I'm looking for my son, Tom. He's not at home, and he didn't leave me a note-”

“Come in, he's here.” Draco stepped aside, and let her enter. Seeing her even closer now, he could see that her eyes had the exact same shade of green as Tom’s had, however a different shape. He found them fascinating. And then there was a hint of summer flowers surrounding her, like a memory of wonderful days in the past season. Her nervousness reminded him of his own mother, who had also always cared about his well-being and safety, up to a point when he started to find her a bit too clingy.

“Tom! Why didn't you leave me a message? I was worried when I didn't find you at home...” Helen came over to the table, where her son was already packing up his things.

“I'm sorry, Mum.”

“Please, I invited him to stay,” Draco offered as an explanation when he joined them.

“Yes, Mum. I brought him my drawing. You know, the one I made yesterday-”

“You did? That's nice.” Helen smiled, and then turned to Draco. “Thank you for taking him in. And I'm still sorry that we troubled you with our problems.”

“Mum, he said I could come in,” Tom said, getting on his feet.

“Yes, I did. And it's okay.” Draco got the impression that she said that more often than she would care to admit. And she looked tired now, as if she had to carry the weight of the world alone on her shoulders as a single parent. “He was doing his homework anyway,” he added, with a hopefully charming smile.

Helen returned the smile, which lit up her face quite a bit. “Again, thank you for helping.” She turned back to her son, and offered him her hand, ready to leave. “Come, let's go home. I'll make us some dinner.”

“Can I have fish fingers?” Tom shouldered his backpack and took his mother's hand.

“We had that yesterday, sweetheart,” Helen replied, heading for the door, held open by Draco who just watched them interact.

“Bye, Draco.” Tom waved with a smile on his face, as he stepped outside.

“Bye, Tom. Just come over when you feel lonely or if they bully you again, okay?”

Tom nodded, his smile growing bigger.

Helen turned around once more just before she stepped outside as well. “You know you don't need to do that... I mean you seem to prefer not to be disturbed.”

“Tom's all right,” Draco replied, a warm smile appearing on his lips again.

“Seriously, thank you,” Helen said, another broad smile lightening up her face, though this time with slightly blushed cheeks. “And good night.”

“Good night.” Draco watched them walk to their house next door, contemplating the whole meeting. The whole afternoon was like a reality check for his changing beliefs – after all, he had befriended a Muggle boy, something he might not have done only a year ago, but now he found it rather normal after having lived amongst Muggles for a couple of months, and finding them not so different at all from wizards in their daily lives. And yes, he did like Helen too, was rather fascinated by her green eyes.

 

The next morning, Draco sported a decent hangover when he woke up, mainly suffering from a throbbing headache and a low circulation which made him feel a bit dizzy and disoriented. But curiously enough, he didn't feel nauseous this time when he was finally sitting at the table, having his breakfast. Had he really had that much red wine the night before? He was sure that he hadn't drunk that much to cause a hangover, but he might have lost count at one point, and he probably just didn't bother to care any longer. The meeting with Helen had put him in a good enough mood to go out and mingle with others at his favourite bar in town – a nice little spot he had come across on his first single trip. He definitely didn't regret his decision to go out, as he had spent a nice evening in the company of two young women that had been probably only a few years older than him; and it most definitely stroked his ego that they were interested in more than just a simple flirt with him, as one of them made a move and kissed him while her friend was freshening herself up. Yes, he still remembered her soft lips on his, and the lazy kiss; it had felt great in that moment, but he didn't want to go any further – she still gave him her number should he change his mind.

When he was finally finished with his breakfast, he heard a familiar picking at his window; an owl was begging for entrance. His head still throbbing gently, he got up to let her in, and the bird hopped on the table, displaying a rather impatient attitude, just because he didn't have the owl treats ready, and had to find them first. She only held her leg out when he finally offered her the treats. “Thanks. You can sit outside in the tree if you want, or you can return home.” He offered her one more treat, and then let her hop outside again, before taking a good look at the letter. It was from Granger, with all the official stamps and seals on it. But everything Ministry-related did.

 _Mr Malfoy,  
Firstly, I would like to remind you that you are behind schedule with your bi-_ _monthl_ _y updates. Please send your reply back with the owl attached to this letter._

_Secondly, I was informed that you performed magic on two Muggle boys two days ago. Please explain your behaviour, as I'm sure you had very good reasons._

_I do not have to remind you that I might check your explanation on my next visit..._

_Your supervisor,  
Hermione Granger_

He had already forgotten about that Leg-Locker Curse he had performed on those two bullies. He hadn't quite realised at the time that he was breaking the Statute of Secrecy and that he would have to justify it to Granger at one point; it had been a wizard's reflex to cast a spell to stop someone from harming another person. He sighed, the unusually formal tone in her letter was probably a sign that she was pissed off with him, and he should better give her a very good explanation for his behaviour. Besides that, the update was going to be thankfully short, as nothing much happened, except for befriending Tom and meeting Helen in the process; the thought of her made him smile.

 

Later that day, in the afternoon, Draco felt decisively better after he had taken a hangover remedy to make his head stop throbbing and his eyes less sensitive to the bright light outside; he finally felt able to properly respond to Granger's reminder. Just as he was about to start writing his update, he noticed Tom in his garden – he must have slipped through the hole in the hedge again. The boy had his school bag with him, and seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

“Hi, Tom. You okay?” Draco asked when finally opened the door.

“W-What?” Tom asked, abruptly pulled from his thoughts, and disoriented for a moment, until he saw Draco look at him curiously. “Sorry.”

“Your mother's not home, I guess?”

Tom shook his head. “No. Sorry. You said I could come over if I feel lonely.”

“Yes, I did. Come in.” And then Draco watched Tom get settled at the table; a short glance at today's homework severely confused him, as he hadn't the slightest clue as to what Tom was supposed to do. “How was school today?”

“Was okay, I suppose,” Tom answered, already reading through his work sheet. “They were still afraid you might come back.”

Draco grinned at that, it seemed that he had given them a decent scare that would last a while. “Still don't want something to drink?”

Tom just shook his head. “Not thirsty.”

“Okay. Did you let your mother know this time that you're here?”

“Yeah, left her a note on the kitchen table. She'll be home in a couple of hours, I think.”

And just like the afternoon before, they spent the time in a shared silence; Tom would do his homework while Draco tried to write his response to Granger's reminder. He started several times because he wasn't sure she would be satisfied with any attempt of a response.

 _Ms_ _Granger,_

_I apologise for that lapse in my usually punctual updates. It won't happen again._

_As to the use of magic on the Muggle boys, it was done to stop them from bullying the boy living next door. They had been fighting in front of my house, and the neighbour boy was already lying on the ground while the other two continued to kick and hit him. The spell I used was the first thing that came to my mind to keep the two bullies from continuing, like a normal reflex of a wizard... It wasn't done to harm them, but rather to keep them from harming someone else. The neighbour boy is okay, and the bullies won't hurt him again, at least not in my vicinity._

_If this explanation is not good enough, I'll explain it further on your next visit. It's not as if I have a choice anyway..._

_As for my usual update: Nothing really changed, I still read a lot, sleep a bit later than my neighbours and have had a few very enjoyable evenings at the bar (I came across it on my first single trip to town). And I've come to enjoy doing a few things the Muggle way, surprisingly enough, e.g. making tea._

_Your charge,  
Draco Malfoy_

 

Draco was reading through his last attempt once more when they heard a knock at his front door. After a short shared look, Draco got up to answer the door while Tom started collecting his things; the boy was finished with his homework anyway, but liked to read through his school books sometimes.

“Hello, it's me again,” Helen greeted with an amused and also slightly embarrassed smile when the door opened, Tom's note in her hand.

“Please come in.” Draco returned the smile, and let her in.

“Thanks.” She walked through to the table in the living room where Tom was just closing his school bag. “How was school today?”

“Was okay, I guess. They didn't do anything today.” Tom looked shortly at Draco who joined them at the table, next to Helen. “And I finished my homework already.”

Helen smiled and turned to Draco. “I'm sorry, he shouldn't just walk over-”

“Remember? I told him that he could come over whenever he feels lonely-”

“Yeah, he did, Mum. He's nice.”

 _He's nice._ Those words surprised Draco greatly, as no one had ever described him as being _nice._ Many other words had been used, such as _prat, entitled, snob, childish,_ some had even called him _weak_ , but no one ever had called him _nice_ before. It seriously felt weird to be described like this, as his family had always tried to achieve respect through fear, not through being nice to others. However, he didn't mind it coming from Tom, not at all. “You work again tomorrow?” he then asked Helen.

She sighed. “Yes. We have way too much work at the office, and too few people, so we're all working our arses off. And I can't give him to his grandparents, as they live across the county, and finding a decent nanny to cover the time I'm not at home is impossible. I hate to leave him alone until I'm back. I mean a lot of things could happen...” She leaned against the table, suddenly looking exhausted.

Draco resisted the urge to take her hand in that moment. “I don't really mind him coming over if you're not home in the afternoon. My table is big enough for both his homework and my stuff. And maybe we could do something else-”

“We could play a game!” Tom interjected with a grin.

Helen slightly blushed. “You really don't have to do this. But I'd be really glad to know that my son isn't alone anymore until I'm home.” Her relieved smile lit up her whole face once more, and the blush on her cheeks deepened. “Honestly, thank you. You really take a burden off my shoulders, you know?”

“Like I said, I don't mind Tom being here,” Draco replied, finding her smile contagious. And he seriously didn't mind her coming over too in the evening; those few minutes had been a highlight the day before, and were a highlight today.

Helen rubbed her face to hide her further blushing cheeks. “Thanks.” She got up from the table, and offered her hand to her son. “Come, let's go home, Tom. You're probably hungry.”

“Yes!” Tom eagerly took her hand, his school bag already shouldered and ready to go.

“How about some hand-made pizza? I still have some dough left from last time...”

“See you tomorrow, then,” Draco said when they were at the door, about to walk over to their house; he was definitely looking forward to the next day.


	3. Nightmares and Hugs

Around the same time, it was mid-September now, the first trials against the surviving Death Eaters began, after what felt like an eternity of collecting evidence, despite them basically being caught red-handed; the Ministry didn't want to leave anything to chance and hence prepared those trials as thoroughly as it could. However, the daily Prophet took those trials as a free pass to put details from the testimonies on the front page to satisfy the thirst for scandals within the wizarding community; and it usually involved some horrifying account from a witness, or they would publish stories about the victims of Hogwarts, including the mostly imaginary details of their deaths. But what Draco considered the worst of it all were the articles they would frequently run on how his family, the Malfoys, had got off without any proper trial. Those highly opinionated articles were quite accusatory and derogatory in tone, letting everybody know that the Malfoys were basically scum, without using the actual word. It was thanks to those articles that they were now considered the lowest of the lowest in society for changing their allegiance only hours before Voldemort's ultimate defeat, confirming thus society's opinion of them as opportunists, as people who had always bowed to those in power to avoid punishment. For both sides, they were traitors and spineless cowards. So, right now, Draco felt glad to have left the wizarding community, because it had been a deep fall within a very short time – from a high and well-connected social standing to being shunned and openly insulted by society.

The reporting on the trials didn't just remind Draco why he left the wizarding community, they also brought the nightmares, and later flashbacks, back. He had had them frequently while being stuck at the Manor, but had been mostly free of them ever since he came up north to Hull. It started with him feeling mostly uneasy from reading the articles, or sometimes even just from skimming them. But he thought he had put enough distance between himself and the wizarding community to be safe, so when the nightmares started, they hit him without any further warning, and thus with full force.

The first such nightmare took him back to his sixth year at Hogwarts, one of the worst years in his life so far. Everything felt so real, it was as if he was experiencing it a second time – all the sights, all sounds, all the emotions, everything. There was Rosmerta, whom he had put under an Imperious Curse; and then Katie Bell as well, who had been supposed to bring the cursed necklace to the castle, where Dumbledore was supposed to find it. Only, Katie started to scream when she came in contact with the necklace and was thrown around in air. Her terrorised screams still lingered on in his mind when the scenery changed to the Room of Requirement, where he had been trying to fix the Vanishing Cabinet and was currently testing it with a live canary. The bird had just come back dead, but that was where the dream deviated from reality, as the bird was now looking at him, as if it was trying to say that he was next. And then the scenery changed once more, this time to the Astronomy Tower, the place of what he still felt was his absolute failure. He was facing an already disarmed Dumbledore, who was trying to dissuade him from the act he was supposed to do. All the helplessness and all the shame he had felt in that moment came flooding back. He had so desperately wanted to believe Dumbledore's words back then, that the Headmaster would be able to save him and his family, but he also knew that Dumbledore was a manipulative old man, already using the Golden Trio as pawns in his chess game against the Dark Lord. No, he wasn't going to be another of Dumbledore's pawns. So, in his dream, a single thought filled his head: how everything would be better once Dumbledore was dead. That was why he slowly raised his wand, preparing himself to use the Killing Curse before the others would arrive. But then, when he was about to open his mouth to utter the spell, the figure of Dumbledore turned into something utterly ghastly and absolutely horrifying with no clear form, but glowing all red and green, and cackling loudly.

“You're not going to kill me, Draco, you're too weak to do it. You don't have what it takes to be a Death Eather-”

“I _will_ kill you!” Draco retorted desperately in the dream. He wanted to do it, but he felt completely paralysed by fear and helplessness, his companions throughout the year. And then he watched the form pointing something at him, he was sure he was going to die now.

 

That was the moment when Draco woke from the nightmare, panting, his heart racing, and covered in cold sweat. It took him a long moment to realise that he was indeed awake and not going to be killed by a horrifying formless Dumbledore. After a few more minutes, his heart finally slowed down to a more normal level and he felt able to move again, so he sat up and took a deep breath, before climbing out of the bed to leave the room. The mirror in the bathroom showed a rather ghostly reflection, almost unrecognisable. The nightmare had exhausted him emotionally, but he knew that he wasn't going back to sleep tonight, not in this upset state. So, instead, he went downstairs to make himself some tea and find something else to distract his mind. Surprisingly enough, he found the Muggle way of letting the water boil properly before filling the mug rather calming, because it gave him the opportunity to sort his thoughts while browsing his rather extensive book shelf of Muggle literature for something to read. He had placed all his magic-related objects and literature in one of the spare rooms upstairs, following Granger's recommendation to avoid unnecessary questions, should he ever have Muggles over in his house. The only thing that he still kept downstairs was the copy of his favourite childhood book, The Tales of Beedle the Bard, hidden between similarly looking books. It was one of the few things that his parents didn't quite know he possessed, as it did clash with most of their views; he even vaguely remembered that his father had petitioned to have it banned for promoting too liberal views within the wizarding community. He was just pulling it out of the shelf when the kettle finally whistled, calling him back into the kitchen. Moments later, he sat down on the sofa with a mug of steeping valerian tea and Beedle, the wireless providing a low background noise, and telling him it was about four o'clock in the morning. That meant that in approximately three more hours, his neighbourhood would wake up and start the day. This made him wonder what time Helen usually would get up and whether she actually preferred tea or coffee in the morning.

 

To really clear out his head, Draco decided to spend the day in town, mostly enjoying the views over the sea, and the constant wind blowing around his head that felt like it took the scare and the still lingering feeling of helplessness with it. For once, he was glad to mingle amongst other people, even found listening to the chatter of his table neighbours at lunch time surprisingly relaxing, as it provided a distraction for his mind. And wandering the streets, looking in the shop windows, he came across a wonderfully crafted chess set, which reminded him of Tom. He didn't know whether the boy knew yet how to play, but if not, he could teach him – Muggle chess was the same as wizard chess, just minus the effects of the animated pieces destroying each other while fighting for each square. He arrived back home only a few minutes before the time Tom would usually come over, so he placed the bag with the chess set straight next to the table and went to make himself a tea.

When Tom finally arrived through the garden, Draco was surprised to find a completely soaked-through boy standing in the door, afraid to step inside. “You okay?” Draco asked worried, after he opened the door, as it had only been drizzling all day long.

Tom nodded at first, avoiding Draco's gaze, but then slowly started to shake his head. “They pushed me into a puddle on my way home. And then they ran away because they are still afraid of you.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

Tom shrugged. “I'm just wet, nothing else.”

“Okay.” Draco smiled faintly at the calm facade Tom had put up; he knew that show too well. “I'm afraid that I have nothing that I could borrow you. Why not go back over to your house first and change into something dry?” He knew the spell that would dry the clothes in almost an instant and he would have loved to see the surprised look on Tom's face, but he wasn't going to use magic again so soon in front of a Muggle if he could help it. Pissing off Granger wasn't on his to-do list, at least not today. “You can leave your stuff here if you want.”

Tom was back within minutes, now wearing a set of comfortable slacks and a jumper, letting himself back in this time. “Thanks.”

“What's your homework today?” Draco asked as he put down two mugs of tea on the table before sitting down, as they could probably both use something to feel better again after this day.

“Nothing much. Just a bit of reading for my English class. But I'm not sure I want to read it right now. It looks _so_ boring.”

Draco nodded, he understood that Tom wasn't in the mood for reading after having been pushed into the puddle and he wasn't going to force him. With a short grin, he remembered the texts he had to read back at Hogwarts, especially those for History of Magic were boring beyond belief and would actually serve as a good remedy for insomnia, as he tended to fall asleep over them more often than not. Only Granger probably found them interesting, but then she found almost every text worth reading. “We could do something else. You know chess?”

Tom nodded eagerly, a big smile on his face. “Of course I do. There's a chess class in school, so I know quite a bit about it, like the movements of all the pieces.”

“Even better because I found _this_ while I was in town today.” Draco grabbed the shopping bag and unpacked the chess set.

“Wow.” Tom's eyes grew big when he saw it. “That looks pretty! And you just bought that?” He carefully turned the set around, and let his fingers briefly trace the wooden inlays, before he opened it to take the pieces out. “I'm white!”

Draco didn't mind, he preferred black anyway; and he found Tom's enthusiasm rather amusing, buying that chess set had been a good idea. However, he quickly realised that he had underestimated Tom a lot, thinking that he might still teach the boy a few things about the game. Not only did Tom know more than just the piece movements, but he already played on a rather high level for his age. Draco lost the first game, mostly because Tom was clever enough to use the mistakes he made out of rather misplaced leniency against him. “Was school okay, besides the push?” Draco asked after the first game, seeing that winning had cheered Tom up.

“Yeah, my maths teacher said that I was the only one who got all the answers right in the homework, I even got an extra point for it...” Tom started to put the pieces back on the board while telling him about his day at school.

From what Draco already understood, Tom seemed to be a rather bright child who loved learning above all, and especially about everything related to stars. If he ever got into Hogwarts, he might do well in Ravenclaw, or even Slytherin, who also praised intelligence as a trait. Ravenclaw was probably better suited for Tom's character, though he just proved his cunning nature in the chess game. “This time, you won't be so lucky.”

“I like challenges,” Tom replied teasingly and opened the second game.

 

Draco won that game after a hard fight for it; when he could finally check Tom's king, there were only a few pieces left on the board. And Tom would have put the pieces back on the board for yet another round if it hadn't been for the now familiar knock on the front door, they both hadn't realised that the sun was already low.

“Hi, me again,” Helen said with a tired, but friendly smile when Draco answered the door; she still had her coat on, as she probably had come over after parking her car. “You look tired, I hope he didn't stress you too much.”

He shook his head, then stepped aside to let her in. “Just had a few troubles sleeping, that's all.”

She smiled sympathetically, and gently run her hand over his forearm. “Just let me know if you feel too tired. I know he can be a handful-”

“It's okay. We played a bit.” He was surprised at the touch of her hand on his arm, as it left an unexpected prickling feeling where her hand had been.

Helen finally came inside, absent-mindedly playing with the hand that she had just touched him with, and still smiling. “Tom, you changed clothes?” she asked surprised when she saw her son in his home clothes instead of the school uniform she had expected. “What happened?”

“My things got wet,” Tom answered rather evasively, looking at Draco, who had come back and was now leaning against the table, just watching the two.

“Why?” Helen continued to ask, sounding worried, even superficially checking her son for any signs of injury.

“Mum, please,” he replied with a sigh. “It just rained when I got home. And I didn't have an umbrella...”

“Okay.” She hugged him shortly.

Draco knew from her tone that she didn't exactly believe Tom, but wouldn't badger him for what happened if her son didn't want to tell. He just wasn't sure if he should tell Helen what Tom had told him, as he didn't want to worry her any further.

“Draco and I played chess. He has a new pretty set, you know?”

Helen couldn't help but grin when she released the boy from the hug and got back up. “The warning is probably too late, but he loves the game ever since he discovered that he could take it as a subject at school, even at his age. I'm just glad he found someone else to play with; he is bored of playing with me.” She let her hand run over his forearm again, leaving another prickling trail, before leaning against the table while waiting for Tom to pack up his things.

Even though he didn't show it, Draco was rather confused by her repeated touch, as they hadn't yet touched each other before really. It did feel nice, but such a close and gentle contact was a surprisingly new experience for him, as he was used to a certain distance even with people he would have called his close friends, and even more so in his family. That was why he didn't really know how to take the situation, or what she meant with it; he simply didn't trust his instincts enough right now.

“But Draco wasn't bad either; he even won the second game,” Tom noted with an amused undertone, as if to say he just let him win for fun.

“It was just luck, really,” Draco replied, feeling a bit embarrassed. “I haven't played it for a while.” As she was still leaning next to him, he let his hand wander closer to hers on the table, just to check for her reaction, as he was still trying to figure out why she was suddenly touching him; she didn't take her hand away when he finally touched it, but rather smiled brightly, which lit up her whole face. He was captivated by that bright smile and he hoped he would see it again the next day.

Tom noticed what was going on between the two adults, but he more than willingly ignored it. He liked Draco and was glad his mother seemed to like him too. “Mum? I'm ready,” he then finally said, interrupting the situation, as his hunger was growing bigger than his curiosity to see what they would do next.

Helen straightened herself up from her leaning position and thus broke off the contact with Draco to both their hidden dismay. “Okay, then let's go back home. I've brought something home for dinner.”

“See you tomorrow?” Tom asked when they were all at the door, with Draco holding it open to let them out.

“And get defeated again in chess? Of course...” And as always, Draco then watched a still smiling Helen and Tom walk towards their house next door, this time also playing thoughtlessly with his fingers. He felt elevated from what had apparently occurred between him and Helen, though it had also left him confused. It would have been nice to have a friend with whom he could talk about it, but he didn't, so he instead decided that he needed a drink to help him sort out the meaning of it all.

 

"Nooooo!" Draco woke from another nightmare that night, again panting and drenched in cold sweat. And for a seemingly long moment, he didn't exactly know whether he was really awake or just in a new nightmare; then he was relieved to realise that he was indeed awake and lying in his own bed. He took a deep breath; it had been a nightmare he hadn't had in a long while, though that didn't make it less disturbing. This time, it had been about the night they had held Granger and Potter captive in the Manor for the Dark Lord. His aunt Bellatrix had been torturing Granger to get the information how they had got the Gryffindor sword in their possession as it was supposed to be hidden in her vault. And Bellatrix had been furious about it; she didn't spare Granger from anything, yet the girl didn't tell her a thing. But the worst part for him was that his aunt had forced him to watch it all, _to make him stronger_. All he wanted that night was to throw up because he couldn't bear watching Granger convulse in pain, even less hearing her scream. Those screams still rang in his ears, reminding him of his shame; he should have helped her then, his life had been forfeit anyway, as he had been kept alive as a punishment for his parents. With another deep breath, Draco got up; just like the night before, he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep anyway, so he rather went downstairs for another cup of valerian tea. While he waited for the kettle to whistle again, he remembered how his aunt and her obsession with the Dark Lord had definitely freaked him out that night, she had been beyond scary, and he was now somewhat glad that she was actually dead. His family mostly followed the Dark Lord because they had been seduced and mislead by his words about blood purity, desperate to believe that they were above everyone else. It took him a war, and the acquaintance of a Muggle boy to understand that this was nonsense. Draco sighed, and rubbed his head; he still had that picture of his aunt leaning over Granger before his eyes and how his aunt had then changed into that formless cackling figure, telling him again that he was too weak to kill anyone. The kettle finally whistled and it pulled him out of his thoughts. Preparing his tea, he knew that he had to contact Granger about his nightmares; maybe not about that particular one, but he should still mention it. His next update was due in a couple of days anyway. But right now, he was sitting down on the sofa with a randomly pulled book and his tea; he would write the letter later, when he had calmed down a bit.

 

_Ms Granger,_

_This time, my update might come a bit early, but I guess the content warrants the earliness._

_Besides the usual nothing of being able to sleep later than my neighbours, reading a lot (I probably need a new shelf soon), and the occasional evenings out in town, there are two things I want to let you know. Well, basically just one, but it won't hurt to let you know the other one as well._

_The more important one of the two is that my nightmares have returned. They are again highly disturbing, and mostly about what happened during the war, about what I had to do, or what I was forced to witness... And every time I have them, it takes hours to calm down and get the pictures and sounds out of my mind again. I don't have to tell you that those pictures and sounds would make anyone afraid of going back to sleep, do I? That's why I'm thinking about contacting the apothecary for a sleep potion because I do not want to lose my sanity over this._

_The second thing is, and I hope you keep that quiet, my reputation is already low as it is, I seem to have befriended the neighbour boy I saved from the bullies in my garden, as mentioned in my last letter. His mother is raising him by herself and works all day. I just keep an eye on him between him finishing school and her coming home from work. He seems to be a rather bright child, and is surprisingly good at chess for his age._

_As a side note, I'm still surprised that you haven't come by yet for a visit. I thought you wanted to know more about the incidents with the bullies..._

_Your charge,  
Draco Malfoy_

 

Draco wrote that letter in the late morning after he had felt calm enough; though he wasn't sure whether he should expect a response from Granger to his letter, but this time, it would be nice to get one.

“Maude? I have a letter to deliver,” Draco called into his garden, and then watched the small owl appear from the tree where she preferred to hide; the bird even hooted quietly when she arrived at the door. “This needs to go to Granger at the Ministry, okay? You know the way...” He gave her a few treats before he attached the letter to her leg. He smiled when she hooted again, she was a nice and uncomplicated small owl, who delivered the letters as told. At least Granger had never complained about the bird and he was sure that she would even spoil the bird a bit. “If you can, nag Granger a little for an answer.” And after one last owl treat, he let the bird outside again, watching her leave for London.

 

Hermione did answer his letter, but not in the way Draco expected. Instead of sending back a written reply, she showed up on his doorstep a couple of days later, on the morning of the first day of October, knocking rather loudly.

“What?” Draco grumbled when he opened the door. It was way too early for Helen, who anyway had a different knock when she came over to pick up Tom. And he had had another nightmare during the night, which didn't really help his mood either. “It's you,” he said, still grumbling, and let her in. “It's been quite a while since your last visit.”

“Sorry. You're not the only case I'm supervising and your updates gave the impression that you settled down nicely and that it wasn't so urgent, unlike other cases.” She passed him on her way inside. “You look awful, by the way.”

“Surprisingly enough, I know. The mirror told me the same thing this morning.” He led her to the table. “Do you want something to drink? I have water, tea, or some coffee.”

“Just some tea would be nice.” She placed her bag on one of the chairs and followed Draco to the kitchen. “You really do it the Muggle way,” she commented when she saw him putting up the kettle, not hiding her surprise.

“Yes. I told you so in one of my last updates,” he replied, preparing the mugs. “How do you like your tea?”

“Tea first and just a bit of milk in it, not much.” And then she watched him prepare everything in silence; it was still a rather unexpected view to see him do it like a Muggle.

“Okay,” Draco finally said and turned around with the mugs in his hands, about to return to the table. “What do you want to discuss?”

Hermione sat down and took the mug he handed her. “Well, I think we should start with your nightmares...” After a first sip of tea, she pulled a small package out of her bag and pushed it over the table towards him. “This might help for a short while.”

Sitting down as well, Draco sceptically opened the package. “Sleeping Draught?”

“Yes. I have to take it too from time to time because there are some things that make me fear sleep too.” She unconsciously followed the outline of the scar on her arm.

He nodded because he fully understood what she meant.

“Be careful with the Draught, though. It shouldn't be taken over a long period of time, as the apothecary advised. It might lose its effectiveness when it's taken over a prolonged period and you can't really up the dose without severe side effects. So, please use it only sparingly,” she further explained, watching him taking a closer look at the bottle. “I think in your case psychological help might be a good idea. There are some that specialise in treating wizards, and it might give you a way to handle the nightmares and the lingering feelings, you know.”

“I'm not mental-”

“I didn't say you are, Malfoy. Hell, even _I_ went to see a psychologist because I wanted to be able to forget those images in my head. You know which images I mean.”

Merlin yes, he knew exactly what she meant, so he slowly nodded, and took a sip from his mug. He had just been through some of those images again last night, and he still heard her screams ringing in his ears, which was such a discrepancy to her sitting calmly at his table right now. “I'll think about it, okay?” he finally said, mostly to appease her.

“Better than nothing,” she replied, not hiding that she didn't really believe him, and sipped some more of her tea.

“Thanks, however, for the Sleeping Draught.”

“Just pay me back one day, okay?”

“I will. A Malfoy tends to pay his debts.”

She smiled shortly. “Nice to know.”

“Anything else?”

She nodded, and grabbed a file from her bag, which looked like it contained the letter he had written just days before. “You mention here that you befriended the neighbour boy?”

“Yes. What about it?” He replied warily, playing with his mug.

“Nothing really. I just found it remarkable that you of all people befriended a Muggle boy. But it was bound to happen sooner or later, I guess,” she replied, smiling more broadly. “I just wanted to know how that came to be...”

“It just happened, okay? Do I have to justify everything? Even the things you would call _good_?”

“No, it's okay.” She tried to suppress a sigh. “What's the boy like?”

“He's a bit quiet, introverted maybe,” Draco started; he didn't quite know whether he should tell her about his suspicion that Tom might be a Muggle-born wizard. He rubbed his neck for a moment. “I guess he's about seven years old, from what I understood about school so far. If he was a wizard, he might end up in Ravenclaw, he loves learning. Sometimes reminds me a bit of you... And he is bloody good at chess for his age. Seriously.”

She grinned. “Sounds good. How's the mother?”

That was the other thing that Draco wasn't sure about whether to tell her or not. He was still confused as hell about Helen's repeated gentle touches on his arm and the closeness it hence generated; he was mainly unsure whether he could even explain his confusion to Granger. “Seems nice too. I mostly see her when she picks up her son after work. She cares a lot about him and is just glad that I help out a little. This counts as good karma, right?”

“Yes, it certainly does,” Hermione replied with a nod. “It's nice to hear that you seem to get along so well.”

“I suppose it is.”

A long moment of silence passed while both took a sip from their tea mug, both figuring out what to say next.

“You look like there is something else,” Draco finally said, watching her closely. There was something in her look that told him that she still had something on her mind...

“There is,” she replied with a sigh. “And you're not going to like it.”

“What is it?” He asked impatiently, not liking the way she was trying to evade a direct answer.

“Your mother wants to know where you are...”

He grumbled. Merlin, he had told them that he wanted to be on his own for the foreseeable future when he had moved his things out of the Manor and that he would contact them again when he was ready to do so. Yet, there she was, his own mother – and probably his father as well to some extent – who still tried to meddle in his life. He had moved up here to be left alone for a while and he had hoped they would respect his wish. They didn't.

“She's badgering me almost daily. But I'm not going to tell her where you are without your explicit consent. She won't get any information from me, unless you tell me otherwise.”

Draco looked at her in astonishment for a few seemingly long seconds. She kept his mother off his back. Yes, she really actually kept his mother off his back, he repeated that several times in his head. “Thank you.”

“If you want, I can tell her that you're doing fine, have calmed down and just need some time to figure out some things.”

“Please, tell her that. As long as you keep my location secret.”

“I think you just realised that I do exactly that. And you know that I _can_ keep secrets.”

He nodded. “I'm pretty sure you don't underestimate my mother either-”

“I would never ever underestimate someone who lied to Voldemort and lived to tell about it.” She finished her tea, and started collecting her things.

“No wand check?”

She shook her head. “No, I don't think it's necessary-”

“You're putting a whole lot of trust in me-”

“Just keep up with your updates, even about the boy and his mother. And let me know if you need anything else, or have a question regarding Muggle life.” She got up and smiled when he did the same to see her out. “I really recommend that you seek psychological help. I do have a list of names you could contact. It can be helpful to sort out the things we've been through and to come to terms with them. Let me know-”

“Like I said, I'll think about it,” he replied when they were at the door.

“Okay.” She saw that it was useless to continue to push it any further with him. “See you next time.”

“Can't wait.” Draco watched her walk out and around the corner. He knew that there was a small and well-hidden spot that was ideal for Apparition. As soon as she had disappeared into that spot, his mind immediately turned its attention to the Sleeping Draught on the table. It was tempting to take a small dose to get some sleep, as he was exhausted from the lack of it as well as the emotional confusion. His mind was so exhausted that he had started to see images even when he was awake; just short flashes, but they were disturbing enough to have him question his own sanity. And it even affected the time he spent with Tom in the afternoon; it wasn't, however, that he got easily irritated with the boy, but the exhaustion started to make it difficult to concentrate reasonably on anything. Over the last few days, between his letter and Granger's visit just now, he had tended to let his mind drift off as long as Tom was occupied with his homework, because he simply craved sleep. The chess games were still somewhat okay, even though it did take him a bit longer to make his moves, as he still didn't want to lose too easily against Tom. With a sigh, Draco decided to wait until the evening to take the Draught, so that he wouldn't be disrupted in his sleep.

 

“You okay?” Tom asked when he came over that evening, a worried look on his face. “You really look tired, you know?”

“I've had a few bad dreams, that's all.” Draco let the boy in, and they both settled down at the table. What do you have today?”

“I just need to write a text about my favourite animal.”

“You don't have pets, right?”

Tom shook his head, getting ready to write. “No. Mum doesn't want one. She says that we don't have the time for one, but I'd really like to have a cat.”

Draco smiled a little; he had his head in his hands, the elbows on the table and watched Tom opening his notebook. “What animal are you going to write about then?”

“Owls. I like them a lot and there are quite a few around here.”

Draco considered showing Tom the owl he had, Maude. She should be sitting in her tree right now, probably getting ready for her hunting later at night. He definitely liked her, as she would occasionally come down when he was in the garden and ask for a few owl treats and some attention. Maybe he could give Tom an owl as a present, should the boy really turn out to be a wizard and invited to attend Hogwarts.

It took Tom a while to write down all he knew about owls, for example that they usually hunt at night and that this was why they had such big eyes; or that they tend to fly soundless, so that they could catch their prey, mostly small rodents such as mice or rats; and he added that the biggest existing owl was the eagle owl. Tom even occasionally tried to ask Draco for some information, but would only get an incoherent and absent-minded reply. “You still awake?” he asked when he was finally finished with his text, amused to find Draco slowly dozing off.

“W-What?” Draco startled; he had indeed started to doze off while watching Tom write. Despite a decent amount of coffee, he felt so tired that he wasn't in the mood for either writing or reading.

“Sorry.” Tom grinned. “You looked like you were about to fall asleep.”

Draco shook his head, mostly to shake off the still lingering groggy feeling of having dozed off. “You're finished with your text?”

Tom nodded; he was already putting his things away again. “You think you can play today?”

“I think I can manage one game...” Draco watched the boy get the chess set from the shelf and put up all the pieces, so that they could play until Helen would come to pick him up. However, Draco didn't quite notice that Tom wasn't playing as competitive as usual and actually would let him win in the end, despite having had several opportunities to finish the game earlier.  


“Wow, you look like a ghost,” Helen said when she finally came knocking, shocked about how pale Draco looked.

“A few bad dreams, that's all.”

“You sure?” Worried, she came in and then a step closer; again she let one of her hands run over his forearm. “If you need something-”

“I'm fine otherwise, but thanks.” Draco shook his head. He just didn't want her to let go of his arm. Despite his still present confusion, he found her touch soothing, so he wanted to keep it.

Helen examined him closely, a still genuinely worried expression on her face. “Okay,” she finally said, though she let shine through that she didn't quite believe him. She gave him a gentle squeeze and then let go of his arm. “Tom, come on, let's go. I think we should let Draco have his rest now.”

“Yeah, he fell asleep at the table while I was doing my homework.” Tom came to the door, with his bag shouldered and ready to go home.

“I didn't,” Draco replied amused, but also slightly embarrassed. He was actually disappointed that Helen already wanted to go back home, as he longed for a repeat of that feeling her touch had generated.

“You had your eyes closed.”

Helen offered a hand to her son. “Okay, let's go home. Draco, thanks for still putting up with him today, despite probably feeling rather awful. I hope you can sleep better tonight.”

Draco smiled and nodded. “Thanks.” And as always, he watched them walk back to their house, while he contemplated what he should do next – should he maybe just take her hand next time? He sighed, he had come here to figure out a few things and now he was even more confused instead.  


After a week, Draco returned to his more normal self, thanks to the Sleeping Draught; even Helen had noticed that he looked better again. He liked that she seemed genuinely concerned about him and that she seemed to seek more contact, though most probably unconsciously so. Her short visits every evening during the week had turned into a highlight of his day; he always looked forward to seeing her bright smile and her closeness. However, that day Draco wasn't thinking about Helen; he was rather concerned about Tom, who hadn't shown up at his usual time. There hadn't been any message from Helen that Tom was feeling ill or wouldn't come over for any other reason. He just sensed that something was off today because Tom wasn't someone who was late. So, for the first time, Draco looked for that hole in the hedge between their premises and climbed through it to check whether he could see him through one of the windows of Helen's house. He even considered using the Homenum Revelio on her house just to be sure. No, Tom would have come over anyway, so the spell wouldn't tell him anything he didn't already know, and so, he went back to his garden, only to pass through his house out in the street. He could see various children walk home, but no Tom amongst them, which worried him even more. He started to walk faster in the direction of the school, which wasn't that far off, and after a few minutes, he could see more children laughing about what seemed to be a funny story, but he still couldn't see Tom anywhere. Something was definitely wrong. Something had definitely happened and Draco thought he could sense it. Finally! He was somewhat relieved to see Tom, who was just leaving the school grounds, his head hanging low, trying to keep out of the way of the others, looking all tiny. “Tom!” Draco now almost ran towards the boy. “Tom, wait!” He finally reached him, completely ignoring the looks of bewilderment and disgust on the faces of the other children passing them. “Hey, what happened?”

Tom startled when he noticed that Draco was standing in his way and stopped walking, yet still kept his head down. “Hi,” he whispered.

“Everything okay?” Draco asked worriedly.

Tom just nodded and tried to suppress a sob, rubbing his eyes dry. He was too proud to just start crying now. “I just wanna go home. Please.”

“Okay.” Draco smiled faintly. “Let's go then.” Draco let Tom lead and tried to shield him from the gazes and whispers of others. It made him angry that Tom had to endure all those humiliating looks and all that mocking laughter, but he couldn't really do anything in that moment except for making sure that Tom got home safely. And it also made him sad because this wasn't the boy he had got to know over the last couple of months, this wasn't the bright and sometimes cheeky boy that constantly defeated him at chess. No, he looked all terrorised and sad.

They walked home in silence, with Tom repeatedly hiccuping from suppressed sobs, though he did feel safer with Draco walking next to him and he did indeed calm down a bit. Once inside Draco's house, he went straight to his usual spot at the table where he put down his bag and sat down.

“Do you want to tell me what happened at school today?” Draco asked after eyeing him for a moment, before turning towards the kitchen to prepare them some tea. While he waited for the kettle to whistle, he watched Tom, who hadn't yet said anything, from the kitchen door. The boy looked ashamed and sad, there must have been another incident at school, and Draco wondered what had happened this time. Then the kettle finally whistled and moments later he returned to the table with two mugs of tea – valerian for Tom, and black for himself. “Here, drink this. It helps.”

Tom looked up, he had put his head on the table in the meantime, and his eyes looked redder than before.

“You okay?”

Tom shook his head slowly. “They made me angry at school,” he started quietly. “And when I'm angry, I make things fly around, like in a storm, you know?”

Draco nodded and sat down. “What did they do to make you angry?”

Tom sobbed and then breathed in deeply. “They told bad things about Mum, l-like that she didn't want me at all. And t-that I'm stupid, a-and mental, and-”

“You know that's not true,” Draco stopped him gently. “Nothing they said is true, okay?”

Tom nodded and then slowly started to sip his tea.

“Your mother is a very nice person and she loves you very much. I can see that every evening when she comes over to pick you up. And you're not stupid, far from it! You beat me at chess, remember? And you know things other children probably haven't even heard of...”

“You like Mum, don't you?” Tom tried to smile, then took another sip from his mug.

“She is nice, yes.”

“I know she likes you. She doesn't usually get so close with other people...”

Draco hid his smile behind his mug and sipped some tea. “Want to play chess? I'll talk to your mother later about homework. I'm pretty sure that can wait for today.” When he saw Tom nod, he knew that he wasn't going to win tonight, but at least he could cheer him up.

 

Later, Helen's knock sounded rather frantic and she ran straight to Tom when Draco opened the door. "Sweetheart! What happened? You okay?" She hugged him tightly and then superficially checked him for injuries. "The school called me at the office, telling me you had another incident." She hugged him again. "I'm really sorry I couldn't come earlier..."

"Mum..." Tom hugged her back. "It's okay. Draco came."

"He did?"

Tom nodded and smiled shortly at the returning Draco, who had kept the distance until now.

"He didn't come over as usual," Draco explained, "so I went looking for him." The moment between Helen and Tom reminded him somewhat of his own mother, who had been more distant with him, but just as overly protective.

Helen let go of Tom and got up, a relieved smile shortly showing on her lips. "Thank you," she whispered to Draco and looked as if she wanted to hug him as well.

"Can we talk for a moment in the kitchen?" Draco asked earnestly. "It won't take long, okay, Tom?"

"Of course..." Helen followed him into the kitchen, surprised to find it in such a clean state for a bachelor flat.

"I hope this isn’t presumptuous, but I think Tom doesn't tell either of us everything he gets through at school."

"I know. He tries to be brave for me..." She sighed.

Draco nodded. "He told me that others had tried to make him angry on purpose, because they probably knew that it would cause another incident-”

"It's always the same boys. God, I have been at the school so many times because of those incidents. I don't know how many conversations I had ever since he was schooled in. And I honestly don't care anymore how many excuses I've made for him. I know, it's not his fault and he tries his best, because he doesn't want to disappoint me-”

“You know what they told him that made him angry?” Draco knew that Tom wasn't going to tell her what exactly had happened unless forced to, but he thought she had to know this time since the school had even called her. "That you don't want him and that you hence don't love him..."

"Oh my God!" Helen was shocked and tried several times to say something, but all she could do for a moment was look at Draco in apprehension.

"I told him that this wasn't true, I can see that every time you pick him up," Draco then continued. "I think he believed me..."

Helen nodded and let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you."

"He's smart-"

"He is. And he is so sensitive. I-I just don't know why this happens to him.” She leaned against the counter, suddenly looking all tired and a bit helpless. "I wish I didn't have to work so much. And I-I wish I wasn't so alone in this..." She sighed and rubbed her arms. "You know, the school wanted another meeting with me and Tom tomorrow afternoon, and that Tom should stay home tomorrow. I don't know whether I have the energy for it anymore... Thank God, my boss was understanding enough to let me take a day off tomorrow, that's why I couldn't come earlier.”

"I could come with you if you want, just for moral support." Draco watched her fight to keep her composure; he had never seen her this tense.

"You already do enough for him, really. He tells me a lot about you, you know? About how you play chess, and what you talk about when you play. He generally seems content when we have dinner.” She rubbed her eyes, wiping away the tears that threatened to fill them up.

He noticed that she was losing the fight and was about to give in to her emotions. "I hope you don't mind me doing that," he whispered and pulled her into his arms, thus bridging the friendly distance they had still kept until now with a simple gesture.

"Thanks," she whispered and buried her face in his chest while slowly putting her arms around his waist. "I'm just so damn tired of it all..."

"I get the feeling..." Draco didn't know any other way to help other than hugging her, even though he had never really willingly hugged someone before, not even his parents. With her, it was somewhat different. His senses were overwhelmed with the sensation of her close contact, it prickled everywhere, but it was so unbelievable comfortable and soothing that he didn't want to let go again soon. It seemed as if she felt similar because she seemed to relax, or at least she was breathing more regular now. It must be exhausting to keep fighting all on your own for everything. "You said Tom had to come as well?" he finally asked.

She nodded and turned her head to the side. "Yes. Apparently it was a bigger story this time," she replied, a hint of apprehension in her voice.

"Tom might feel safer if I came along, at least on the way to the school. I mean, I don't need to sit in at the meeting, that's between you and the teachers, but the other children probably wouldn't laugh at him so much if I was there. I can look pretty menacing if I want to."

She chuckled shortly. "You don't look menacing to me."

He smiled softly. "I hope not."

"It would mean a lot to Tom if you could come. And to me." She breathed in deeply.

"Feeling better?"

She nodded. "Thanks. This definitely helped." She slowly loosened her arms around him, reluctant to let go completely. "I'm sorry that you got sucked into our problems again," she added, looking up with a shy smile on her lips.

"It's okay." Draco returned the smile and gently rubbed her back. "But I think we shouldn't let Tom wait any longer."

She sighed and then finally let go of him. "Thanks again," she said, straightening her clothes, before following Draco back into the living room, where Tom meanwhile had found a book to read; he had probably picked it to distract himself than because he had found it interesting.

Tom now looked up when they came back from the kitchen. "What did you talk about?"

"I'll tell you at home. Come, let's go, you must be hungry..." And with a smile, she watched her son put the book back on the shelf. "If you want, we can order a big pizza for once, and watch a film upstairs." She offered him her hand.

"Can I have a Hawaii with extra pineapple on it?" He grabbed his mother's hand, ready to go home.

"Whatever you like, as long as it's nothing spicy."

As always, Draco let them out. "See you tomorrow," he said when they stepped out.

Helen turned around, smiling. "Bye. And thank you again."

"Bye!" Tom was smiling again, looking forward to a pizza and a film night.

 

**TBC**

 


	4. Bullies and Birthday Parties

Draco had slept extraordinarily well that night; he neither had to take the Sleeping Draught, nor had he been disturbed by a nightmare. That was why he had a surprisingly good mood at breakfast while contemplating the meeting that Helen and Tom were supposed to attend at the school later in the afternoon. According to what he had been able to coax out of Tom, it had been the same boys who had bullied him in front of his door that one afternoon - and it seemed that those two needed a reminder to leave Tom alone; the shock treatment he had given them had apparently worn off, so a repeat was in order. It was just a pity really that he couldn't use magic at all this time, but Granger wouldn't probably let him off the hook so easily again, and she was already busy enough keeping his mother off his back. But that didn't mean he couldn't be menacing without the use of magic—after all, he just had to remind them. Merlin, a repeat of the Leg-Binder Spell, or—even better—a nice little Tarantallegra Spell that would make them dance involuntarily would still be great to humiliate them, the new laughing stocks of the school. He did find it ironic that he could use his own experience as a former bully to stop two other bullies from continuing...

 

Just as Draco was clearing the table after his breakfast, he saw Tom climb through the hole in the hedge, with a big book in his hands. The boy looked a bit pale, probably from nervousness, but he was still in his home clothes, as it was still too early to get ready for the meeting.

“Mum is making a fuss,” Tom said, with a slight growl, when Draco let him inside. “She keeps going through every possibility, again and again and again... She even said we might need to move again.” With a sigh, Tom put the book on the table and sat down. “Thing is, this time I don't want to move.”

“Again?” Draco asked, sitting down as well to finish his coffee.

“Yeah. Mum says that the incidents already started in pre-school. Only small things at the beginning, like making a glass fall down, or make things blow up. I don't remember much, but one of the other children didn't like me. He would always make me angry, or scare me, and that's when things happen.”

Draco just nodded and took a sip from his mug. He knew that many wizarding families boasted stories of how they scared their children into doing unintentional magic, especially when they feared that the child might be a squib — no wizarding family really wanted a squib amongst them, regardless how liberal or progressive they thought they were. “That's why you moved here?”

Tom nodded and opened his book. “Mum thought it was a nice school. But I was so scared on my first day, that–”

“–that something bad happened?”

Tom nodded again and then swallowed hard, keeping his gaze on the first pages of the book.

“Your mother knows you're here?” Draco then asked, not wanting to press the other subject further. He could see that the book in Tom's hands was about astronomy and those first pages showed amazing pictures of nebulas and galaxies.

“Yeah, I just want to read a bit about the stars; it helps me calm down. She just makes me nervous when she's like that, you know?”

“I'd be nervous too, I guess.” Merlin, despite his snobbish and cocking behaviour at Hogwarts, he would've been scared beyond his wits if he had to talk to Dumbledore in his first couple of years. Already McGonagall had been an intimidating figure whenever he had to deal with her. He was just glad that she hadn't been Head of his House back then. “You want something to drink?”

Tom shook his head. “No. I just had something at home before I came over. But thanks.”

Draco finished his coffee and just continued to watch Tom read. He found it fascinating how fast Tom was reading for his age; he knew that Muggles learned reading in school and sometimes the parents would teach them how to write their names and such. Wizards were different; their children wouldn't go to school until they received their invitation letter to one of the Wizarding Schools in Europe, and it was up to the parents to teach their children reading, writing, basic maths and whatever they considered necessary. Draco remembered the hours he had spent with his mother when she would go through the alphabet with him until he knew all the letters, or that she would listen to him reading his children books aloud to her, sometimes correcting his pronunciation, or explaining him a word; for maths and other subjects they deemed necessary, however, his family had hired a tutor, making sure he would be ready for Hogwarts. Looking back now, he remembered that he had indeed loved the time with his mother — life had still been rather simple back then.

 

When Draco got up to bring his empty mug into the kitchen, he discovered that Helen was walking through his garden, and she didn't look too happy. He immediately realised that Tom hadn't really told her where he disappeared to. “Your mother's here.”

“W-What?” Tom turned around, embarrassed at being caught. His eyes widened in fear of what she was going to say because he hadn't told her. And then he let out a desperate groan like someone who just wanted to be left alone for a moment.

“Stay here.” Draco stepped outside to meet Helen. They were all nervous about the meeting; however, starting an argument now about such a small thing wasn't going to help at all. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she replied, sneering. “My son apparently prefers staying at your place now, for whatever reason.”

“Don't,” Draco replied in a quiet, earnest voice; he could hear the hurt and apprehension in hers. “You're making him nervous. He just wanted to read a bit–”

“He always reads when he's nervous,” she retorted, not hiding her frustration. “I just don't know what's going to happen. I told you yesterday that I've had my fair share of those meetings, a-and each time they seem less patient, you know? I-It might just as well be that they don't want my son at the school anymore because of all those incidents.” She rubbed her face, then her temples, trying to relieve the tension in her head. “I'm sorry. I just want it to be over with already. I hate waiting.”

“We all do.”

“It's just so much, and I feel lonely most of the time. A-And I really don't know why I tell you all this.” She smiled embarrassed. “You probably have enough problems of your own...” She breathed in deeply, and rubbed her arms. “It's just nice to talk with you because you seem to care, and because I can trust you, especially after yesterday. I'm really glad you went looking for Tom and distracted him. Seriously.”

Draco noticed that she looked upset and lost in her attempt to hold on to herself, almost desperately so. Without thinking about it, he took her hand and pulled her closer. “Come here.” And then he was surprised that she immediately wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest like she had done the evening before.

“Thanks,” she whispered and sighed in relief.

Draco nodded, and just held her for a moment, rubbing her back gently. Just like the evening before, his senses were rather overwhelmed with her close contact, yet it was also comfortable, and soothing; he even noticed that her hands seemed to make small strokes where she had placed them on his back, sending shivers down his spine.

When she had somewhat calmed down again, she looked up, a soft, grateful smile curling up her lips. “Thanks for doing that. It feels comfortable, you know? Didn't know I missed it so much...”

“You did that often?”

She nodded. “Used to. But now it's only with Tom when I put him to bed, or on Sunday mornings when he crawls into my bed.”

Merlin, if he had ever dared to crawl into his mother's bed as a child, he would have been told off for doing such a thing, privacy had always been important for his parents. “Feeling better again?”

“Yes.” She loosened her arms around his waist, though seemingly reluctant. “Thanks.”

“You know, Tom thinks you're mad at him for coming over,” Draco said, feeling surprisingly disappointed about her loosened arms around him.

She sighed. “I'm not. I was just worried, and probably overreacted a tad.” She finally let go of him and smiled more broadly. “Maybe we should get inside.”

“Mum, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but–” Tom started when the adults came back inside; he had tried to keep his focus on his book while Draco was outside, but from his nervous leg moving, it was clear that he had seen how upset his mother was and the following hug between them.

“It's okay, sweetheart.” Helen stroked Tom's head. “I'm not mad at you, we're all just a little nervous.” She sat down next to him. “What are you reading?”

Tom showed her the front page of the book. “Just something about the stars. Grandpa gave me this last year.”

“I remember...”

“Tea?” Draco asked, walking towards the kitchen.

Helen nodded, smiling gently. “Would be nice.”

“Can we play a bit?”

“Now?” Helen asked, looking at her son in surprise.

Draco, meanwhile, put the kettle on, then watched from the kitchen door how Tom got the chess set from the shelf board it was usually stored on. “You let me win today?”

“No chance.”

Helen laughed; Draco loved that sound, as it meant that she felt more relaxed again. He didn't mind that he wasn't even getting close to winning today, as long as Tom was distracted and Helen relaxed to get through it all.

 

“Good luck.” Hours later, Draco waved shortly when Helen and Tom entered the meeting room where they were supposed to talk with the teachers about the most recent incident and what the school now intended to do as a reaction; he would wait outside until they came back out, hopefully with good news. Guessing that it might take some time, he figured he could have a look around, curious about what a Muggle school looked like, as he had only ever been inside one school in his life, Hogwarts. The school was one of those modern and functional building complexes — a stark contrast to the ancient castle of Hogwarts — with information boards hanging on the walls, next to exhibitions of different class projects and drawings. It seemed that they had arrived for the afternoon break, so Draco ventured outside to the school yard where most of the children were playing. As soon as he stepped outside, he could see two boys get up and run away as soon as they recognised him. Ah yes, they were exactly the boys he was still looking for. He calmly followed them, keeping an eye on where they were running to while making sure that he didn't raise the attention of the teachers around; he had them soon cornered at the end of the school yard. “You two,” he growled.

“D-Don't hurt us again.” They started to tremble and cower when they noticed the anger in his voice.

“I think you two need a reminder. I told you that I will know when you bully Tom again-”

“W-We're sorry... sir.”

“I don't think you are, you spineless cowards. But you will be once I'm done with you. I know ways to make you wish you never even looked funny at Tom,” Draco continued, glaring menacingly at the two bullies. “Believe me.”

“W-What do you-”

“QUIET!” A few loose things around them started to shake a bit when he growled at them once more; it wasn't intentional, just a short manifestation of his anger, but it worked just as well because he saw the two boys tremble even more. "Do you really want to see me angry?"

"N-No... sir."

"Good. Now, you will apologise to Tom for bullying him and you will tell the teachers the truth about what you've done. And from now on, you will be nice to everyone here, is that understood? Or do you want to meet me again?"

"No, sir. W-We will do what you want."

Draco smirked when he noticed that they were trembling in panic and fear, just as he wanted them to be. They were scared out of their wits and it wouldn't take much more to have them pissing their pants, a temptation Draco simply couldn't resist.

 

When Helen and Tom came out of the meeting room a while later, Draco was waiting next to it as if nothing had happened, looking at them expectantly.

"Everything turned out okay," she explained with a huge relieved smile.

"Yes, someone came in and said that two boys had come to them, looking all scared, and that they wanted to apologise for making me angry. Their pants were wet." Of course, Tom saw Draco's short satisfied smirk and smirked in response; he understood what had happened in the meantime, though his mother seemingly hadn't noticed.

"Yes, the teacher said that they had pissed their pants and were apologising for everything," Helen said amused and slowly turned to leave, offering her hand to Tom.

"What did they say in the end?"

"They never were going to expel Tom; they just wanted to discuss options on how to contain those incidents."

"Sounds great."

"I can stay here!" Tom exclaimed and opened the door for them.

Helen smiled even more broadly. "Yes. They said that he was top of the class and that he had never really hurt anyone during his incidents. They just require him to take some sort of anger management class, so that he won't get angry so easily again. I think it's a good compromise."

"Sounds like it." Draco let Helen step outside first.

"Hey, don't you want to come over for dinner tonight? Nothing big, just a small thank you..." Helen blushed, but looked like she hoped that he'd say yes.

 

Over the next two weeks, life took different turns for Tom and Draco. For the boy, everything changed to the better in that period — the two bullies and their parents were ordered to a meeting, and consequently put under probation with the condition that they would visit some sort of behavioural therapy, and that they would apologise to everyone at school for what they had done. The boys — and their parents to some extent — were now under strict control, one misstep in behaviour, such as falling back to teasing fellow students, and they would be expelled from school. It was of course a rather harsh punishment, but the school considered it necessary given the various witness accounts of different students and the fact that they usually provoked Tom enough to cause another incident. This new situation gave the other students finally the chance to breathe without the fear of being bullied for any reason; they were all much more relaxed. And especially Tom started to bloom; he found new friends after he could convince them that he wasn't dangerous at all and that there was absolutely no reason to be scared of him any longer. Especially with Daniel, who was in the same class as he was, and with whom he already had sometimes spent his breaks, did he grow close, and were now inseparable at school. However, Tom still came home after school to do his homework and then play chess with Draco, his other good friend, who after all had made sure that he wasn't bullied any longer.

Draco, on the other hand, had a much more difficult time over those two weeks. He had of course said yes to Helen's invitation for dinner that evening, and had thus spent a great evening over some pasta, talking a bit about Tom's school and the anger management class the boy was now required to take; he didn't quite understand the concept of an anger management class, but nonetheless agreed that Tom should be able to somewhat control his emotions to avoid further incidents. Helen had hugged him again that evening, and even though her close contact still overwhelmed his senses, he had enjoyed it immensely, even more reluctant to let go this time. The following evenings, he was repeatedly captivated by that smile that lit up Helen's face whenever she came over to pick up Tom after work; in addition, she also seemed more relaxed, constantly a teasing spark in her deep green eyes. She now always stood somewhat close to him and repeatedly touched him —yes, she seemed to enjoy his presence very much; but despite her repeated touches, she didn't try to get too close, not yet wanting to push anything.  
However enjoyable his days had become, his nights became disturbing again. The first few nights, there were just flashes of images in his sleep that would leave him rather upset and irritated when he woke up in the morning because he couldn't understand how they would come back, now that he had the Sleeping Draught, and to some extent Helen's influence in his life as well. Maybe it was the articles about the on-going trials in the Daily Prophet, though he barely skimmed through the newspaper these days, as he didn't need a reminder of that time in his life. Maybe it was something different that he just didn't understand. The second week, the images in his dreams were longer, and sometimes turned into short nightmares that lingered on after he woke up the morning, together with feeling even more disturbed than before; but those images and the connected feelings were usually gone by lunch time at the latest. That was why he didn't think too much of it yet, though he did start to question the Draught a bit. He seriously hoped it was just some sort of hiccup resulting from the rather fundamental changes in his life, some reaction to the adjustment to living amongst Muggles. Knowing that Granger wanted to know those kind of things, he did put it into his usual update to her, underneath the short information that he indeed needed a new shelf now and that he could help the neighbour boy with the bullies at his school, emphasizing that he hadn't needed any magic at all for that.

 

And then one day in mid-October, Tom brought Draco a craftily decorated envelope, his name written on it in child-like letters. “That's for you,” Tom said with a big smile when he handed Draco the envelope after arriving from school in the afternoon.

“Thank you.” Sitting down, Draco opened it and found an invitation to a birthday party inside. “I didn't know your birthday was coming up, you never really told me. And it's on Thursday already, that's in three days...”

“Are you coming? I only invite friends. And my grandparents, but that's because Mum wants me to.”

After having spent so much time with Tom, Draco still found it a bit weird that the boy considered him a _friend_. But after having spent seven years at Hogwarts with no one he could have called a real friend, this notion was indeed rather difficult to get used to. “Of course I'll come. Thanks. But it doesn't leave me much time to find you a present.”

“Presents!” Tom exclaimed giddily. “And there's going to be cake too. Mum said she is going to bake one for me.” Tom was visibly excited at the idea of getting presents and a birthday cake. So, while he pulled out his homework, he continued babbling about what he wanted to do on his big day; and he wouldn't stop at that, but rather continued about what games they could play, what he wanted the cake to look like and what he hoped his mother would give him as a present, all while he was trying to figure out the task sheet.

 

When Helen came over to pick up Tom, he was still going on about his birthday; Draco's mockingly tired face made her laugh when she entered.

“He. Won't. Stop.”

“Yes,” she replied with another chuckle. “He likes his birthday very much. I should've put a warning into your envelope. Sorry.”

“It's okay. Thanks for the invitation, though.”

“Hey, you were even the first person on the invitation list. I came in second, and that's only because I make the cake.”

Now Draco laughed and followed her to the table. “Is there anything in particular he wishes for?” Despite having listened to Tom going on about what he hoped he would get for his birthday, he still didn't really have an idea of what he could give him as a present.

“You can't go wrong with a book, in any case. I don't want him to have any of those game console things yet, he’s still too young for that, though one of his new friends seems to have one. He'll probably get a bike from me.”

“He mentioned something like that...”

“Mum!” Tom was putting the chess set back on the shelf, still grinning broadly. “He's coming too!”

“I know, sweetheart, I know. Why don't you pack the rest of your things, and we have some dinner at home?” And with another smile, she watched her son immediately starting to collect his things. “Seriously, I hope he wasn't babbling too much.” She put her hand on his arm, as she now did every evening.

This time, Draco responded by laying his hand on hers, wanting to keep the contact. “It was okay. He sounds as if he's really happy to have friends to invite now.”

“Yes, he is. I've looked up a few games they could play to keep them occupied until he gets the presents,” she replied, smiling at his gesture. “Want to join us for dinner?”

He gently shook his head. “No, I think I'm going to call it an early night today.”

“Bad dreams again?”

“Just flashes. Nothing really. And I need a clear head if I want to find a present for Tom...”

“Like I said, books are a big favourite. Especially those about astronomy.”

“Mum? I'm ready!” Tom had in the meantime shouldered his bag, and was waiting for them to finish their conversation.

“Okay.” Helen gently withdrew her hand from underneath Draco's and offered it to her son for taking. “See you later. I hope you find something.”

“See you.” As always, Draco held the door for them and then watched them walk over to their next-door home, already missing her contact again. He was definitely looking forward to their next meeting.

 

When Tom's birthday arrived, Draco didn't quite know what to expect in regards to the birthday party, as his own birthday parties had always been a rather formal and boring affair as a child, with lots of relatives coming over, bringing their children along, cousins he maybe saw twice a year. So it took him a moment to adjust to the level of noise in Helen's house when he came over, apparently arriving as the last invited guest.

“Draco! You're finally here!” Tom had answered the door, with a big happy grin on his face when he recognised him. It was his big day and he was enjoying all of it. “Is that for me?” He pointed at the wrapped package in Draco's hand.

“Yes, something special for you...” Draco entered and Tom closed the door behind him.

“I need to go back to the game; we're hunting for a treasure. Mum and the other adults are in the living room.” Tom ran back upstairs, where Draco could hear more children talking and running around.

The sofa in the living room was well occupied when Draco came in; he could see an elderly couple that most probably were Helen's parents who lived across the county as far as he remembered, then another woman that was a friend of Helen's and helping out with the children, and of course Helen who waved at him with her warm big smile while being forced to listen to a story her father was telling.

But after a few moments, Helen could finally free herself from the story, having it heard hundreds of times already, and came to greet Draco. “Hey! Glad you finally came.”

“I was invited after all.”

She smiled. “You can put the present on the pile there. The children are playing a Treasure Hunt around the house. I've hidden some small parcels in all the rooms and they are looking for them right now.”

“Yes, he told me that he was hunting something when he let me in.” Draco put his present on the pile next to the others.

“Here.” She handed him a glass of wine. “We'll have the cake when the children have found all of those small parcels, shouldn't take too long though. Come, I'll introduce you to the others.” She took his free arm to lead him to the sofa, where the others were sitting, inspecting him. “This is Draco, my next-door neighbour. He's the one who keeps an eye on Tom after school.”

“A funny name,” the elder woman said, her sceptical look showed that she had clearly noticed Helen's hand that was still resting on his arm.

“After a star constellation, runs in the family,” Draco replied with a shrug; he got the impression that she had already decided not to like him too much for whatever reason. With his family background, that was something he could handle.

“My parents, Sara and Greg Fawley,” Helen mentioned, with what looked like a slightly forced smile towards her mother.

“Nice to meet you,” the elder man said, even indicated that he would get up to greet him if he could, and then side-glanced at his wife.

“I'm Val,” the other woman continued the introduction round; she seemed to be about the same age as Helen. “Nice to meet you.”

Draco was placed between Helen and her parents, and soon realised that she was using him to put some space between herself and her parents. It looked like she just invited them because they were Tom's grandparents and not because was overly fond of her mother. She probably might have been more relaxed if it had just been her father, who seemed decent enough according to his observations in the first few minutes. Draco took a sip from his wine glass, and tried to follow the conversation; he was surprised to find out that it was basically about the same things as wizarding parents. He hadn't much to add to the conversation, but at least Helen sat so close that she was basically leaning into him.

 

“So, how come you look after Tom after school?” Mrs Fawley finally asked Draco rather directly.

“He came over one day–” Draco began.

“He helped Tom with his bullies,” Helen interrupted, a surprisingly wary tone in her voice.

“And since then you watch Tom when my daughter is not home yet?”

Helen sighed, and looked at Draco, who just nodded.

“Tom's my only grand grandchild; I just want to make sure he is in good hands.”

“I think I saw you that day when Helen had to come for that meeting. You three were just leaving the school building when I picked up Daniel after school,” Val added, trying to change the course of the conversation into a less dangerous direction. “My son told me that something weird had happened that day. Only nobody can quite understand what.”

“Something weird?” Mrs Fawley asked, apparently not quite up-to-date regarding her grandson.

Val nodded. “Yes. Daniel told me that the other children who bullied him, and Tom as well, suddenly looked like they had seen a terrifying ghost, and they had seemingly pissed their pants, and everything. The weirdest thing was that they apparently confessed to have been responsible for repeatedly causing Tom's incidents by making him angry on purpose, and apologised to everyone. Nobody knows anything really, but nobody cares either because the situation is much better now.” She took a sip of her wine.

Draco smiled; he was the reason that those boys suddenly remembered how to behave, as he had scared them shitless, reminding them that he would come after them should they continue. Tom probably knew what he had done, but hadn't told a word to his mother. So, as he knew what had happened, it was interesting to listen to the ensuing discussion.

 

“You look rather young,” Mr Fawley said later. “But it's nice that you keep an eye on Tom, you know.”

“He's a good boy, and he loves beating me at chess.” Draco found the old man the more likeable of Helen's parents, or at least the more considerate of what he said.

“We found them all!” Tom and the other children came running back into the living room, their hands filled with several small parcels that contained sweets and small toys. “We almost couldn't find the last one, Mum!”

“Great!” Helen got up to hug her son. “Birthday cake now?”

Tom nodded, a huge grin across his face, still a bit flushed from running around the house.

“Okay, then I'll go finish it in the kitchen, I need to light the candles and stuff, you know? And you can already sit at the table if you want, it won't take long...” Helen disappeared into the kitchen while Val helped the children find a seat around the table.

Before the elder Fawleys could say something, Draco got up to join Helen in the kitchen, mostly to escape the grandparents for a moment. “Can I help with something?”

“I'm almost finished.” She put the last candle into the cake. “I'm sorry about my parents. My Mum is very sceptical of any man I introduce to her, you know?”

“You mean they think we're...?”

“Yes, exactly that.” Helen nodded in embarrassment while lighting the candles. “They do. Or at least my Mum does. And I'm already sorry for any further questions from them.” She took a step back to check the cake and then turned around to face Draco. “I mean you're so nice and I don't want them to embarrass you, at least not too much...”

“You think I'm _nice_?” Draco joked, mainly to relax her a bit and to see her broad smile again.

Amused, and with a raised eyebrow, Helen dared to go a bit further. “Why, yes, I do. You help me a lot, you're a surprisingly good hugger and you're quite good-looking, actually...” She chuckled, but now, she didn't dare to look at him.

“Oh, I can definitely live with nice and good-looking,” he replied, chuckling and, of course, noticing her short embarrassment at what she had dared to let out.

“But really, thanks for coming,” she replied. “It means a lot.” She checked the cake once more to make sure that the candles were still burning. “Ready?” she then shouted into the living room, so that everyone could hear her.

“YEEEEES!” the children shouted back, sounding excited.

“Then lights out, I'm coming.” She returned into the darkened living room, with everyone singing Happy Birthday.

Draco followed behind her, still smiling at the small conversation he just had with her in the kitchen; he felt rather elevated by her statement that she found him nice and good-looking — though she did let shine through that she found him more than just _nice_ , that much he had noticed.

It took Tom two tries to blow out all seven candles on his cake, and then he closed his eyes for a moment, apparently making a wish. “Now, presents!” Tom then exclaimed, excited and more than anxious to see what he got this year. The first present that Helen handed him to open was from his grandparents; it contained a green handmade jumper and a new game. Tom didn't like the jumper very much, but thought that the game was cool enough, so he still thanked them, only to then continue with the presents from his school friends, mostly more games and sweets.

Then Helen went outside to get her present.

“A bike! I got a bike!” Tom got off his chair and ran to his mother to hug her. “Thank you, Mum!”

“Well, you never stopped talking about wanting one, so I thought you're now old enough to get one,” Helen explained while Tom immediately tried out his new bike, eager to do a few rounds. “You can try it later in the garden, after we have finished the cake, okay? Plus, you still have to open Draco's present,” she stopped him finally before he could do a round in the living room.

“Okay.” Tom got off his new bike and sat back down at the table, still grinning as broadly as he could; Draco's present was unwrapped in seconds, as he more or less just shredded the wrapping. “A story book! Cool!”

“Those are some of the stories I grew up with,” Draco explained. “I thought you might like them too.” Thankfully the magic book store in Diagon Alley had been fast enough with the delivery, though his request by owl had been rather short notice and probably rather peculiar too — he had asked for an edition with non-moving pictures of the Tales of Beedle the Bard. He had long since read the Muggle fairy tales; he even had an edition of some of them on his bookshelf, so he thought the Tales of Beedle the Bard were unsuspicious enough amongst them.

“Thanks! It's cool!” Tom got off his chair again to hug Draco, who returned the gesture.

“Now, cake anyone?” Helen asked, starting to cut the cake into pieces; in the end, everyone was munching on a piece of cake. Even Draco, who had had his fair share of cakes at Hogwarts, found hers just as sweet and delicious and he most definitely didn't say no to a second piece.

 

Afterwards, Tom finally could try his new bike in the garden, helped by his friends, while the adults were watching them from the small porch.

Mr Fawley used the moment and joined Draco in the corner. “Was a nice present,” he said politely. “Tom adores books.”

“Helen told me that I couldn't go wrong with a book.”

Mr Fawley smiled. “You seem like a decent man...”

Draco warily looked at the older man for a moment, trying to figure out what he had meant with that. “Thanks,” he then replied slowly.

“So, what do you work then?” Mr Fawley continued. “I mean you seem to have the time to watch my grandson basically every afternoon.”

Again, Draco looked at the older man; Helen had warned him in the kitchen that her parents might question him quite a bit. And he got an idea where the current conversation would be going in a couple of questions, he wasn't sure he liked it. “Well, my family is quite well-off. I just finished my education, and I'm taking some time off-”

“A gap year then?”

“Yes, something like that.” That was probably the closest to the truth he could get, and yet, he was still off by far.

Now Mr Fawley examined him and then nodded. “You like her?”

Draco had expected exactly that question to come up sooner or later. And it was the one he didn't want to answer in any way, mostly because he was still trying to figure that one out himself.

“Dad, please!” Helen came to the rescue, glaring at her father for a second. “It's Tom's birthday, not a family dinner!” She placed herself between the two. “Draco is a good friend and neighbour. Nothing else.”

“Sweetheart, I was only asking.”

“I know you mean well, Dad,” Helen replied, with a soft smile. “But it would be really nice if you could let your asking be for the evening, okay?”

Mr Fawley returned the soft smile. “Okay, I'll get myself some more cake if there is still any left.”

“Thanks.” Helen breathed out in relief when her father went back inside. “I'm sorry, Draco. He can be quite sneaky...”

“You know, my parents would probably have done something similar to any girl I might have brought home. They would question her class and manners and what not, or they wouldn't even consider her,” he replied. “Good thing I never brought any girl home, really.”

Helen smiled and leaned in closer for a moment. “Just because you already mentioned it anyway, why would your parents question her class and manners?”

“Well, what I'm going to tell you is actually a bit of a secret, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I already told your father that my family is rather well-off. But truth is, where I come from, we still belong to the wealthy elite. And my parents would love to see me marry someone from the same class, though I couldn't care less about that now... So, you see, I'm not only _nice_ , good-looking, and a good hugger, I also have some money.”

“The part about you being nice and a good hugger is still my favourite,” Helen replied, a small teasing smile on her lips, leaning in.

“Oh, I still don't know about the being _nice_ part,” he said, smirking; he definitely enjoyed the teasing banter with Helen.

“Now, if you're _so_ wealthy, why then live here?” she then asked, her lips still keeping that teasing smile, her voice sounding more curious.

“I'm trying to hide from my parents while trying to figure a few things out...”

Her smile turned into a more sympathetic one. “A good enough reason for me. Thanks again for coming today, and for the present. He loves it.”

“You two finished flirting?” Val asked with an amused voice a few moments later when she passed them on the way back inside.

“God, you listened?” Helen blushed deeply.

“No no, don't worry. But you did look close when I looked over... Just be glad that your mother didn't really see you, or she might think now that her suspicions are correct.”

“Oh God,” Helen groaned. “Stop laughing at me!” She nudged him in the side.

 

Val and her son Daniel were the last guests to leave after a noisy and playful afternoon; the other parents had already come by to pick their children up. Daniel was fighting against his tiredness in Val's arms, cake and games finally taking their toll on him, his head lying heavy on his mother's shoulder. Even Tom had already started to show signs of exhaustion, though he still desperately denied being tired at all. He had had a wonderful day, got a lot of presents and ate as much cake as he wanted. Only Draco stayed, as Helen had asked him if he could help her with the tidying up after the party – mostly taking decorations down and bringing dishes into the kitchen, and then finish off the last open wine bottle.

“How about you get ready for bed as well, young man, and then you can read a bit in your new book?” Helen asked her son who was sitting on the sofa, skipping the pages of Draco's book.

Tom shook his head and tried to fight off a rather violent yawn. “I'm not tired, Mum.”

“You are. And tomorrow is still a school day.”

“Mum, please...”

“No, Tom. Bed now.”

The grin on Tom's face started to fade as he got off the sofa to get upstairs to his bedroom. On the stairs, he turned around again. “Can't Draco read one of the stories for me?”

“Tom. Bed. Now.”

“Mum-”

“I'll come up when you're in your pyjamas, have brushed your teeth and are under your blanket.” Helen sighed; it was the same game every evening at bed time. She heard him stomp up the rest of the steps, knowing that he was a bit disappointed, but it was really time for him to go to bed. So, while Tom was taking his time to get ready for bed, she and Draco started to tidy up the living room.

“Mum, I'm ready,” Tom finally shouted from upstairs.

“Okay, I'll be right with you,” Helen answered. She took down the last pieces of decoration from the wall, put them in the garbage bag and then put the bag in the kitchen. “It won't take long, then we can finish the bottle,” she said to Draco before climbing the stairs.

“Okay.” He nodded and brought the last glasses back into the kitchen. Back in the living room, he could faintly hear Helen and Tom talk, and he tried to remember the last time his mother had done this when he was a child. It must have been a long time ago because he couldn't really remember it, though he knew that she had done so. With a sigh, he sat down on the sofa and poured the wine into the remaining two glasses, emptying the bottle in the process; he looked forward to the rest of the evening, that was mostly the reason why he had agreed to stay and help her clean up. If only she knew that it would have taken him only a swish with his wand and everything would have been gone?

“He's already fast asleep in his bed,” Helen whispered when she came back down only a short while later, with a smile on her face.

“He was yawning rather violently...”

She nodded. “Was a great afternoon though. Thanks for helping.” She sat down on the sofa, close enough to lean on. “I'm pretty sure your present will soon be his favourite story book.” And with that, she took her wine glass to take a sip.

“It was mine.” He leaned back, feeling a bit tired. Good, but still tired; he just wasn't really used to this amount of social contact in one day. “I've read it so many times that I probably still know them by heart.”

“You do?” She leaned back as well and was surprised that he had lifted his arm so that he could put it around her shoulders. Smiling, she leaned her head against his shoulder, finding it rather comfortable.

“Oh yes. I could probably even recite them, but I'm too tired right now to do them justice.” He took a sip of his wine, fully enjoying the little moment between them. “I'm surprised that your parents were seriously thinking that I'm your new... you know.” He chuckled shortly.

“Yeah,” she chuckled too, but rather out of slight embarrassment. “Though my dad was surprisingly decent with you after I stopped him. What did he ask you when I came to save you from him?”

“You don't want to know...” He let his hand run over her upper arm, drawing small circles.

“Come on, it can't be that bad,” she teased, amused about his reluctance. “Oh my God, he didn't ask you whether you like me, or did he?”

Draco cleared his throat and tried to hide a small smile. “He might have.”

“I'm so sorry about that. Really.” She couldn't help but feel even more embarrassed right now and tried to hide her blushed cheeks in his shoulder.

“I understand your father, he wasn't that bad, really. But your mother is another story. I think she decided that she didn't like me when I first sat down on the sofa. And to answer your father's question, I _do_ like you.”

She looked up, that bright smile on her lips he had come to like so much. “You probably know already that I like you too in a – I guess – similar way. But my mother still has that idea in her head that Tom's father might come back one day. She even blames _me_ for his disappearance, saying that I didn't try hard enough to keep him. _Me_ , her own daughter.” Helen sighed and took another gulp from her wine glass. “Sometimes I seriously wish I didn't have to invite them to every family thing, even Tom finds them annoying sometimes...”

Oh yes, he knew the blame game only too well, one of his last arguments with his father was about having disappointed him by not having been able to kill Dumbledore. Now that he thought back, he figured that he had never been good enough for his father, whatever he had done in order to impress him. It was rather cynical that the one person he had once admired as a child had never really considered him good enough. Yes, the blame game was one of the reasons right now why he was hiding from his parents. He looked down to Helen, who was seemingly in her own thoughts and, hence, looked rather pensive and even a bit tired, not even necessarily from the birthday party – but above all, she looked lonely. Maybe that was what talking about parents in general brought out, loneliness. “Can I ask you something?” he asked after a few more moments of shared silence.

“What do you want to know?” She looked up, clearly surprised, but with an inviting smile.

“You said that Tom's father disappeared. Do you know why he left? And where is he now? It's probably not my place to ask, but I'm still curious...”

“Honest answer?” She sighed and leaned her head back on his shoulder, nestling a bit closer.

He nodded, noticing her shifted position. “Only if you want to tell me.”

“I don't know.” She took another sip of her wine. “I just came home one day, from some grocery shopping I think, and found a note with a single line on it. ' _I'm sorry, but I can't do this anymore'_ , it said. I mean, Tom had just been born a few months earlier, I was trying to finish my education, and then he just left.” She played with her glass, watching the remains of the wine sway in it. “Tom is a great boy, but I sometimes think he still misses his father, even though he doesn't really remember him.”

“I think you're doing great so far-”

“I'm tired,” she replied, her voice cracking slightly from the emotions starting to come up in her. “It's exhausting. And I'm lonely a lot. I'm so fed up with being lonely.”

“I felt lonely most of my life,” Draco admitted and finished his wine. “Being a Malfoy in my generation guarantees that.”

She smiled sympathetically and took his glass to put it back on the table, next to hers. “So, we're lonely together then,” she whispered when she leaned back on his shoulder, nicely surrounded by his arm. “Though I really can't imagine how someone like you could end up being so lonely. You're nice, charming even-”

“I had the wrong upbringing,” he replied, more irritated than he had intended, and took a deep breath He finally gave in to the temptation and let his fingers run through her hair.

“I mean it when I say that you're nice. I was telling you the truth earlier in the kitchen.” She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on his hand stroking gently through her hair instead. “Hmm... don't stop that, it feels good.”

“It's so soft.”

“You feel good, you know? All our hugs have...”

“Yes,” he whispered, gently continuing the strokes through her hair, starting to feel overwhelmed and a bit dizzy from the close contact with her.

She opened her eyes again, and looked at him for a long moment, her brows furrowed together, and biting her lip. “C-Can I try something with you?” she then asked. “I don't know if this is too forward or too much. I shouldn't probably even ask...”

Draco recognised the need for connection in her eyes when he gazed back; their already deep green colour had even turned to a darker shade, and there was a hint of gold shimmering. Merlin, it was almost as if he recognised his own need in hers. He nodded.

Helen slowly shifted her position and her face came up his. Her lips first only brushed his, surprising him with their softness. She didn't move away, but nervously waited for his response, looking rather vulnerable. “I-I'm so-”

“Shh... Don't apologise for everything.” He pulled her closer and placed his lips on hers, his tongue gently asking for entrance. He could feel her tremble, as if she was still not sure about it. So he repeated the kiss, letting his tongue brush over her lips again and asking once more for entrance.

And then Helen suddenly responded to his repeated request by shifting her position so that she came to sit in his lap and then looked at him once more, purring lowly at his hands roaming over her back.

Meanwhile, Draco was electrified by her new position, it caused a shiver of anticipation to run through his body. And then the touch of her lips when she finally started to kiss him back with that desperate passion, with that small moan coming from deep within her—it was almost too much, but he didn't want her to stop. Merlin, it felt so good, it was intoxicating, better than anything he had felt in a long time. No, he definitely didn't want her to stop. He didn't even care in that moment that he didn't have that much experience, but it probably didn't matter with her anyway... He could feel her moan into the kiss again when he let his hands wander over her thighs, disappointed that he couldn't just Vanish her trousers. That was when she started to grind her hips against his, gently at first, but growing more intense with almost every move; he didn't know whether she realised what she was doing, but it made him want more, as his body responded with arousal, which became more and more prominent with every grinding of her hips against his.

Helen only broke off when he moaned deeply into the kiss from the excitement that was building up, with his arousal now pressing harder against her folds; she was completely out of breath, but remained very close, her fingers still raking through his hair. Her lips were red and slightly puffed and she let her tongue run over them, her eyes were searching his, blazing with hunger. “I'm sorry if I'm taking this too far, b-but it just felt good-”

“Shh... Don't stop,” he interrupted her huskily. “I want more now.” He started to carefully pull her blouse out of her trousers while watching her intently. That look of hunger in her eyes sent a shiver down his spine—no one ever really had looked at him like that, not with that kind of desire, no. So, hell yes, he definitely wanted more of that!

“You sure? Because I'm desperate enough to let you go on...” With another small moan, she placed a soft kiss on his lips, letting her tongue run over them without entering. “I just want to feel something else than that damn loneliness for once.” She closed her eyes and shivered when his fingers touched the bare skin on her back for the first time and unconsciously started to grind her hips into his again, even letting out another moan when she could feel his arousal once more.

That was when Draco gave up his restraint and pulled her face closer to kiss her; he didn't care anymore because like her, he just wanted to feel something else than that damn loneliness and that bloody pain that both played such a big part in his life. Whatever she had to offer was so much better than anything he had in the past...


	5. Invitation to a dinner

The next morning, Draco woke up with a groan. It was way too much light in his room, with the sun shining brightly outside; he had thus his eyes still closed. But where was he? Why did his head hurt so much? And why did he feel like throwing up? He pulled the cover over his head and finally dared to open his eyes in this more comfortable darkness. Ah yes, it was his own cover, so he was in his own room then. But how the hell did he get back? And when? He remembered that he was at Tom's birthday party; but what happened afterwards to give him such a hangover? Just thinking about this made his head throb even more, up to the point where his eyes started to hurt as well, so he closed them again.

Merlin, he needed to take something!

But everything that he could take against his throbbing headache was either in the bathroom or downstairs in the kitchen. He groaned. Just great.

So, slowly, and with another long groan, he managed to put his feet down on the floor, the rest of his body still hidden beneath the cover. And his head protested heavily against the sudden re-appearance of the bright light when he finally dared to pull the cover off again, his eyes still firmly closed. Why the fucking hell did he forget to draw the curtains when he finally got home?

After a few more moments, he finally managed to sit up, immediately suffering the consequences for it, as his head throbbed even more now. So, holding his head, he sat still for a minute, and felt like a zombie being revived from the dead. And then, after fumbling his way through his room to close the curtains, he finally made it to the bathroom.

The mirror didn't show a very nice reflection – he looked pale, even paler than usual. Zombie-like was even putting it nicely. His lips looked slightly bruised and his eyes had rings the size of saucers. Merlin, what happened the night before and how the hell did he actually get back home? He got the feeling that it was something that he might come to regret. With a sigh, and without really looking, he grabbed something from his cabinet and got hold of a small box, Muggle medicine then.

He hadn't yet completely swallowed the medicine when the memories of the night before came back, flooding his mind with every little detail of what they had done. For a few long seconds, he was completely overwhelmed and felt like he couldn't breathe and then his stomach reacted; he only had seconds to turn around and lift the toilet lid before he threw up what little he still had in him. When he finally managed to stop, mainly because there was nothing left but gastric acid to throw up, he was shaking violently, his stomach and throat hurting. Feeling dizzy, he managed to stand up again, and carefully took another dose while leaning against the counter.

After another glass of water, he wandered back to his room with another refill. His head still throbbed when he crawled back under the cover, so he closed his eyes to ease the pain a bit. But as soon as he closed his eyes, the images from the night before came back. He groaned.

Why, by Merlin's beard, would he do such a thing?

Helen had been nice and she was still Tom's mother. Why the hell did he have to give in to his instincts? And why did it feel now as if he had used her to feel something? Why _her_? Just fucking why? He groaned; dying felt like the preferable option right now.

 

It took Draco two whole days to somewhat recover from what he thought had been a hangover, despite not having drunk too much at the birthday party at all. His stomach wouldn't accept anything that even remotely looked like food whenever he dared to try a few bites, and so mostly kept to camomile or peppermint tea; and he felt exhausted, and would have given a lot to just sleep his hangover off, but the memory of that night came back whenever he dared to close his eyes.

That desperate hunger in her eyes, the feel of her kisses everywhere when she had finally managed to get his shirt off, then his trousers. And all those little moans she let out when they had finally got her clothes off, giving him access to all those sweet spots. And then that feeling when she had finally let herself sink onto him, just perfect...

Merlin, no! He didn't want to go there, it only furthered his guilt!

So, between trying to ease his stomach and trying to stop remembering all those images, he somewhat lost track of time during his recovery; he didn't quite know what day it was, and hence wondered why Tom hadn't come over when he was finally able to walk around again and actually eat something.

Merlin, Tom!

Just great, he had shagged the mother of the boy he watched over every afternoon. Absolutely not awkward at all. Not at all, no. Just why did he have to shag _her_? Why not one of those girls that had given him their number on a night out? It would have been so much less complicated!

What had Helen told her son? Had she told him that he had been an arse? That he didn't actually care that much and just used her? Was that why Tom hadn't come back yet?

Despite wondering about that, he was rather glad that Tom hadn't yet come over again, given the state he was in, still not fully recovered and probably looking like risen from the dead.

 

Given Draco's cycle of thought about what happened between him and Helen, especially what it meant now, and not getting anywhere with it, he was actually surprised to hear a knock the following Monday afternoon at his garden door. It was Tom, all waving and smiling.

“Hi, Tom.” Draco let the boy in, completely confused about his appearance, but still glad about it; he had somewhat missed him.

“Can I come in? It's freezing outside.”

“Of course, come in.” And as if nothing had changed, Draco watched Tom get in and get himself settled at the table; Draco found the whole scene somewhat surreal. “How was your day?” he finally asked, sitting down as well.

“Good, I guess. Had a test in History. Was easy enough.” Tom had finally pulled out everything he needed for his usual round of homework.

Muggle subjects still confused Draco, but now he understood enough to follow Tom whenever he would tell him what they were covering in class, or what he was doing for homework; today it looked like another round of maths homework.

“Were you sick after my birthday party? You weren't around when I came over after school on Friday...”

Sick wasn't even covering it. Draco had had what felt like the worst hangover ever, though he still didn't quite understand why after only a couple of glasses of wine, really not enough to cause such a severe reaction. “Yes, I didn't feel well. Sorry.”

“Mum didn't feel well either. She didn't go to work on Friday, you know? But I still wanted to come over and play a bit.” With no further thought to it, Tom grabbed the task sheet and started reading the instructions.

Thanks. That was exactly what he needed—more guilt and confusion. She didn't feel well because of him. Great. Thanks. Draco just wanted to crawl back into his bed and shut out the rest of the world. He took a deep breath to keep calm. “She's feeling better now?”

“I don't know, but she at least went to work today. She keeps repeating herself, always going like 'it was a mistake', or 'I shouldn't have done that', stuff like that.” Tom looked up, examining him for a moment. “You look bad.”

Draco nodded. “Do you mind if we don't speak too much? I still have a headache..:”

“Does that mean you don't want to play either?”

“We'll see later,” Draco replied, trying to smile and then watched Tom returning to his homework. He tried not to think too much about how Helen felt right now, or what she looked like, though he failed miserably at that.

When Tom finished his homework, he looked at Draco again. “You still look bad. Maybe we better play tomorrow.”

“Does your mother _know_ you're here?” Draco asked, ignoring Tom's comment on his looks.

“Yes. She said I can still come here, but I have to be home at six.” Tom put his things back in his bag, and fished for something else, most likely a book.

Draco sighed. So, she won't come over and look him in the eye. No, she was going to avoid him for the time being. He didn't know why, but this irritated him more than he thought. “I'll be right back.” He got up to go upstairs, leaving Tom alone for a moment. Arriving in his bedroom, he then cast a Silencio spell, so that nobody could hear him in the next few minutes. And then he let his frustration and anger out in one long scream. She was avoiding him! And she had been the one who had initiated it; she had wanted it in the first place! His voice started to get hoarse, but he kept screaming, still feeling utterly frustrated at the situation. Had he been that bad that she didn't want anything to do with him anymore? Or had he hurt her and didn't know it? Had he done something that he shouldn't have done? Merlin, he was mad at her for not telling him what was wrong, for leaving him alone with his thoughts. But that was probably what you got for doing it with a Muggle. He felt like an utter idiot – a Malfoy doing it with a Muggle!

When he felt his frustration and anger abate to a more manageable level, Draco breathed in deeply several times, then revoked the Silencio spell. Screaming had helped letting it out of his system, but he would probably stay angry at her for a while for playing with him like that.

“Your eyes are dark,” Tom noted when Draco returned to the table, opening a randomly pulled book from his own shelf.

“They sometimes change colour,” Draco replied, sounding more irritated than he had intended; he sighed. “Why don't you just read until you need to get home? I'm not really in the mood for talking at the moment.”

Still looking at him, Tom nodded and without any further comment returned his attention to the book in front of him.

 

That night, Draco's nightmares returned in full force—this time, he had been back in the Astronomy Tower, back in the situation of having to kill Dumbledore and back to have that formless figure, gleaming even more brightly in red and green and threatening to murder him. Draco woke up in the same moment as every time, just before that formless figure would utter the words of the Killing Curse to kill him. As always, he was completely disoriented upon waking up, until he realised that he was still in his own bed and still very much alive. And like always, there was no point in trying to go back to sleep, with his mind this upset and agitated, so instead he got up after having breathed in deeply several times. He didn't even bother to check his reflection in the mirror on his way down, he already knew that he looked like a ghost, and even felt like one. But that was what a still lingering inexplicable hangover and only about three hours of sleep, according to the clock on his nightstand, might do to you.

Downstairs, he automatically filled the kettle and put it on the stove before he tried to find a book on his shelf; he found a book just before the kettle started to whistle. The sound disturbed him for a moment, bringing back another wave of guilt, without being able to tell exactly why. The disturbing feeling disappeared again when he took the kettle off the stove to fill his mug, already prepared with valerian tea, his go-to calming remedy after nightmares like this. So, with the steeping tea in one hand and the book in the other, he placed himself on the sofa, turned on the wireless and began reading to distract himself until the sun would rise in a few more hours.

And as usual after such a nightmare, Draco spent the day in town; the weather was rather stormy that day, and hence perfect to clear his head. He took a long walk along the port, letting his gaze wander out on the sea repeatedly, and the wind around his head letting the images dissipate from his mind. It was during one of those stops to gaze around when he thought he saw something that wasn't possible. Impossible because he knew that the person he clearly saw standing on the pier not too far away was dead. He had been at his funeral after the Second War, as the Ministry had given him permission to attend as his godson. So why then was Snape standing there, looking at him? Looking at him with what he thought to be pity? Draco closed his eyes for a moment, and then looked again. But Snape was gone. The pier was again filled with just Muggles. Merlin, his mind must really be disturbed and exhausted if he started to see dead people now. He walked on, slowly finding his way back into the centre of the town. Why of all people had he imagined to see Snape standing on that pier? It only added to his general confusion and made him question his sanity that afternoon. Besides that, there already were the nightmares that still freaked him out whenever he dared to think about them, and then there was that situation with Helen which just made him angry and frustrated whenever he thought about that. He was still hurt that she had decided to avoid him, that she hadn't dared to pick up her son the evening before when she had returned from work, but instead had told her son to be back home at a certain time. Merlin, he so wanted to tell her that he had known what he had agreed to that night, that she had asked for some short relief from her loneliness, just as she had offered him the same. No deep feelings whatsoever, just sex for one night's relief, a decision made in a weak moment. It hadn't even been something he had ever planned to even do with someone like _her_ , and yet he had let it happen, and now somehow suffered the consequences for it. Lost in those thoughts, his feet found their way back to his usual Apparition point, from which he usually travelled back to the small hidden spot in his neighbourhood. Tom would come home soon and he should rather make sure that he was in a better mood than the day before, so that they could play a game of chess, as he had promised.

 

The rest of the first week after suffering from his hangover went by in a similar way – his nights shortened to three, maybe four hours of sleep before he would wake up screaming, in cold sweat and completely disoriented. Only if he took the Sleeping Draught did he get a more decent amount of sleep, around six hours of it, still not enough to feel rested, but enough to get through the day. He spent the daytime out in town, always desperately trying to get his mind of the things that disturbed him so much these days. Browsing through the shops did help a bit, especially when he found a book shop and lost himself in the shelves of books. But then, always suddenly and with no warning, he would recognise Snape's figure in the corner of his eye, only to find no one there when he turned his head around to take a closer look. Those occurrences unsettled him every time they happened, and the more days passed in the first week, the more often they happened. And he wasn't sure whether he should mention his returning nightmares and the hallucinations in his update to Granger that was due this week, though he knew that she would want to know about it. He just wasn't sure because if he did mention it, he would have to mention why he probably had them as well, and that was something he didn't want to admit to her if he could avoid it. So, for this time, he only mentioned that he had taken up to walks around town, that he was still watching over Tom in the afternoons and that he was thinking about sorting out some of his books to make place for his newest acquisitions.

 

“You look like a ghost, you know?” Tom noted when he came over the following Tuesday, the second week after that night and the hangover. “And your eyes are still dark.”

“Tired, that's all. Get in.”

Tom noticed Draco's mood and entered without any further comment to sit down as usual. Over the last week he had watched his friend closely and had, of course, noticed that there was something wrong because both adults seemed to feel bad about something, but both refused to simply talk to each other; Draco's mood had even got worse as the days passed by, though he probably still tried to be friendly with him. Adults! If they liked each other enough, why weren't they speaking with each other anymore? And didn't his mother always say that he should tell her when he felt bad about something? “You know, Mum's feeling tired too all the time,” he finally said, curious about Draco's reaction. “She's crying a lot.”

Draco just glared at Tom, after joining him at the table; he made it clear that he didn't want to know that, or that he didn't care that she was crying a lot. “Did she tell you to say that?” he asked, letting out a growl at the end.

“No,” Tom replied, not in the least intimidated by Draco's reaction. He got the impression that Draco did very much care about his mother, but didn't want to show it; the whole situation did confuse him quite a bit — were all adults so complicated? “ _I_ thought you wanted to know.”

Draco nodded once, still glaring at Tom. “Please don't do that anymore, okay? She can tell me herself...”

“She won't.”

“I don't care.”

“Then you're an idiot.”

“Keep going and you can stay home for the rest of the week.”

Now it was Tom who glared at Draco, clearly annoyed at the thick-headedness of his friend, but he didn't say a word. If Draco wanted to behave like that, well then, he wouldn't stop him! He was just like his mother, who didn't want to talk about him when she came home after work, as they had done in the past. No, over the past week, she would always either start crying or get angry at him whenever he dared to even mention Draco in any way. And now Draco was all the same whenever he tried to mention his mother. Seriously, adults! So, Tom was done dealing with Draco more than necessary that day, and instead pulled out his homework and the book he had brought along; the glare and the demonstrative handling of the book was his way of saying that he wasn't going to speak to Draco for the rest of his visit—and as it would turn out for most of the remaining week neither.

 

However, if Draco thought that the first week had been bad already, then the rest of the second week turned into a living nightmare, and not because Tom was mostly silent on his visits in the afternoon. His nightmares got a lot worse, haunting him at night, even further shortened his sleep, and now exhausted him mentally; whenever he dared to go into town, he saw Snape almost everywhere, which drove him mad because the figure was gone as soon as he wanted to take a closer look. And then the flashbacks started. First it was just the sound of Granger's screaming in his ears whenever he used the kettle, unsettling him, but not yet completely disturbing. Soon, though, those flashbacks grew more intense, overwhelming his senses more each time they happened; he even found himself on the floor several times after experiencing a flashback, confused how he ended up down there. Desperate to get at least some amount of sleep, and to feel less mentally exhausted, he now took the Sleeping Draught every night; but his mind was apparently so upset that the Draught started to lose its effectiveness, and only put off the nightmares for a few hours, instead of giving him the promised dreamless sleep – it was one of the side-effects Granger had warned him about, but he didn't care any longer. And yet, he still woke up screaming every night. Until he reached the point where he just couldn't take it on his own any longer, at the end of October.

  
_Granger,_

 _Could you please make a visit as soon as possible?_  
_I need someone to talk to and you're the only person I know right now. Otherwise I might go crazy..._  
_(Not that I think you would mind too much)_

_Draco Malfoy_

 

Hermione came as soon as she had received and read the letter. She knew that he wouldn't contact her in such a desperate tone if it wasn't important; something that he hadn't told her in his last update was seemingly not going so well. “You look like shit,” she noted rather matter-of-factly when he finally let her in that late Sunday morning.

“And you still like to point out the obvious,” he retorted, closing the door behind her again. “But thanks for coming so fast.”

She nodded, and went over to the table. “I was about to leave for the Sunday lunch, but your owl insisted that I should read it.” She carefully put her bag down. “Mind making me some tea? Haven't really had one yet today...”

With a sigh, Draco went into the kitchen. Thankfully, he had his wand with him because he couldn't use the kettle anymore without experiencing a flashback of her torture. He didn't like doing it the wizarding way, but it was the only way to make tea right now. Hermione followed him into the kitchen and noticed immediately that he was using his wand to heat the water. "You're not doing it the Muggle way anymore?" she asked, not hiding her surprise.

He shook his head. "No. I find the sound disturbing at the moment."

She nodded in understanding; whatever it was that disturbed him, it was probably going to take a while until he would tell her. He didn't open up that easily, despite the now established trust between them; yet he had been desperate enough to contact her, something he had never done before now, so she would stay until she knew what was plaguing him. After all, it was her job to make sure he was okay, or help find solutions to his problems.

“You still take a bit of milk in it, right?”

“You remember?”

“Of course I do. And it's tea first, milk later.”

She smiled. “Yes.”

“Here.” He handed her a mug, then walked passed her to sit down at the table, exhaling deeply as if he was bracing himself for the following conversation with her, his supervisor; she could sense that he didn't feel too comfortable with it, but had run out of options.

“So, why did you ask for me to come as soon as I can? Something going wrong?” she asked in earnest when she was sitting at the table, then took a sip from her mug, careful not to burn her tongue. “Has it something to do with the fact that you can't stand the sound of the kettle any longer?”

He nodded slowly. “I have my nightmares again and this time also flashbacks. The kettle triggers one of them.” He sighed. “I didn't think it would get so bad, or I would have mentioned it in my update already.”

She nodded, blowing on her tea. “You take the Sleeping Draught?”

“Yes. But it doesn't help as much anymore.”

Hermione took another sip from her mug. “How long do you have them now?”

“About two weeks...”

“What do you think happened to cause them? Anything happened that I should know about?” She looked at him sceptically. “And please be honest with me.”

He crossed his arms, feeling rather insulted by her last comment. “I'm honest as long as you aren't going to judge me for what I'm going to tell you.”

“I'm long past that point when it comes to you...” She shortly glared at him, noticing his frustration. It was like he was trying to mask his uneasiness with it — if not downright helplessness with the situation. It made her wonder what was frustrating him so much. “Look, what I wanted to say is that you shouldn't hold anything back if you want me to help you, okay?”

Draco looked at her; his expression was inscrutable for a moment, and she knew by now that he was thinking hard behind his mask—probably considering if he should tell _her_ of all people. His deep breath was a sign that he was finally swallowing his pride, because she really was the only one he had to talk to at the moment. “You remember the boy I watch over in the afternoons?” he then started.

She nodded, and took another sip of her tea, not saying anything.

“I was invited to his birthday party about two weeks ago. It was actually quite nice...”

“Did you bring a present?”

“Of course. I found an edition of Beedle without moving pictures...”

“Beedle? I thought your father was against that book?”

“Granger! Not now... I'm trying to tell you something,” he replied irritated.

“Sorry. Go on.”

However, instead of giving an answer, Draco just stirred his tea rather absent-mindedly. Then he let out a resigned sigh, and slumped back in his chair. "I slept with Helen that evening, the boy's mother," he finally admitted, his quiet voice sounding defiant.

Hermione almost let her mug fall out of her hands when she heard that and it took her more than a moment to process the information; it wasn't what she had guessed that was troubling him at all, not with his background and everything. But she knew that since he had helped the boy with the bullies and was now watching him every afternoon, he must have befriended the mother as well at some point. “Please don't get me wrong, but how? Why?” she finally asked, trying to sound as genuine as she could.

Draco shortly smirked at her immediate reaction. “Do you know what it is like to feel lonely for most of your life? Probably not... She raises her son on her own; I'm running from my past. So, we both wanted to feel something else for once.”

She nodded; she could somewhat relate to that feeling, she had felt lonely sometimes on their hunt for the Horcruxes, as if the whole world was hunting them; yet it still seemed rather incredulous what he had just told her. That he seemingly settled nicely in this neighbourhood and even had befriended Helen was one thing, but she was still astonished that he would allow such an intimate situation with a Muggle, completely disregarding his strict upbringing — or maybe it was some sort of late rebellion against it?

“You should close your mouth, Granger. It doesn't look good on you.”

She smiled sheepishly. “It just sounds a bit surprising, that's all.”

“I figured. You looked like it. And you look like you want to know how it was...”

“Oh God, no–”

He smirked. “I guess it wasn't that bad. But that isn't the problem.”

“What is it then?” she asked, noticing the frustration he let out in his sigh.

“She's avoiding me. I haven't seen her since that evening. It's pissing me off, you know? I don't know why she's doing it. And it confuses the hell out of me because Tom still comes over after school and tells me about her. Half the time I just want to scream at her...”

Hermione noticed that his eyes seemed to darken, like a sign of his frustration and confusion. “And the other half of the time?”

“I want to scream at myself because it was a mistake. Have you ever felt disgusted at yourself?”

“Why?” She wasn't quite sure how to understand that question. “Why would you feel disgusted?”

Draco sighed; he seemed to struggle for adequate words to explain his emotions. “It's just that, in a way, I never thought I would do it with a Muggle. I wasn't supposed to as a Malfoy, you know? Purebloods don't just have sex with anything less than other Purebloods and doing it with a Muggle is considered a complete disgrace.” He glared at her when he saw that she was about to open her mouth to say something. “Don't. I was raised to believe this, so don't you dare say anything, Granger.” He breathed in deeply, apparently trying to keep his focus. “And then I think I'm not good enough for her. That with my past, I don't actually deserve anything–”

“Don't say that, Malfoy.”

He smiled faintly. “I know you don't believe that. But it's still in my head,” he replied, tapping at his temple. “I mean, I just took advantage of someone who had been nice to me.”

Hermione bridged the moment with a long sip from her mug, watching him fidget with his. He looked like he felt as if he expected to be judged—something he was probably far too familiar with based on his experiences. However, she wasn't so sure what she was supposed to say now. It was a weird situation he found himself in, and she could see how the whole thing drove him mad—and upsetting him enough to cause his nightmares.

“Granger? Say something. I start to feel like an idiot here...”

“What do you want me to say?” she replied. “Do you want to hear my thoughts? Or do you want some advice?”

He rubbed his neck for a moment. “I don't know really. I just know that I can't go on like this. I don't want to be ignored anymore.”

She nodded; no one liked to be ignored like this. At least she now had some idea how to help him... “Okay. I think I'll tell you what I think about the situation first, as unbelievable as it still sounds. I'm not judging you, just giving my impression.”

With a sigh, he nodded.

She smiled faintly. “I think you like Helen more than you realise, that's why you react the way you do. You're afraid of being rejected, of not being good enough — you said so yourself, Malfoy. And you think she's doing exactly that, reject you–”

“I'm not afraid of being rejected!”

“Really?” she replied to his exclamation with a raised eyebrow, not in the least intimidated by the low growl he even let out. “You always depended on the opinion of others, especially your father as a child. You did everything to please him as far as I remember, because you were afraid he might reject you as a son.”

“I wasn't-”

“You were.” She glared at him. “You did everything because you wanted to be accepted, even doing something like taking the Mark-”

“You know full well that I was forced to!” he let out, raising his voice. “If I hadn't, He would have made me watch my parents die at His hands. You know that! Would you want to watch your parents die?” He was trembling now, barely holding his anger in check, his eyes a dark shade of grey now. “You said you won't judge me, Granger!”

“I'm not judging you, I said I would tell you my thoughts, and you being afraid of rejection is an observation I've made over the years. But if you can't take it, then it's not my problem.”

“Hell, I should just have gone to the bar and tell someone else about my problems and then Obliviate them—it would have been less frustrating.” He groaned in frustration and then raked his hand through his hair, probably to keep himself from throttling her.

“You would still have to deal with me for using a spell on a Muggle.”

“Merlin's bloody beard! Muggles! Are all of you so bloody frustrating?” He barely finished sneering that sentence when he could feel his voice being cut off. With wide, shocked eyes, he looked at her, grabbing at his throat, trying to make a sound. When he realised that she had Silenced him, he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in defiance.

“Are all you Purebloods so bloody irritating?” she retorted; his remark had pissed her off, and she was now staring straight back at him, not wavering in their staring contest. Oh no, she wasn't going to let him get away with such remarks, he should have known better. “Stop that bullshit. I do not want you to speak like that to me ever again, understood? If you do, I won't be so nice to just Silence you again... Now, are you going to listen what I have to say about your situation? Because honestly, I don't really mind at all to leave you to solve it yourself...”

Still unable to speak and not seeing any other option, Draco reluctantly, albeit still defiantly, nodded.

“Good.” Her voice turned softer again, though she didn't hide that she was still pissed off. “Now, please, really stop thinking about people in terms of their blood status. That's like you say that you're better than I am based on your eye colour...” She saw that he was nodding, showing that he had already understood that. “It really isn't important what someone looks like, or what blood status they have, or even if they have magic or not in them. The only thing that's important is what you see in someone else as a _person_. Especially what you see in Helen as a _person_ , because I think she might indeed be good for you. Not perfect, no. But she might help you settle and find your ground again, you know? At least from what you told me about her so far.” She played with her wand for a moment, considering her next words, before she continued with a softer voice. “Now, I'm going to lift the Silencio and I want you to tell me what, first of all, you think she saw in you before that night, and secondly, what you see in her... But keep pissing me off and I will put the Silencio back on. I can do it without a wand if I have to.”

He nodded and sighed in relief when she finally revoked the Silencio on him; he massaged his throat for a few seconds while thinking about what she had just said. “S-She told me twice that she thinks I'm a really nice person,” he started, his voice surprisingly quiet. “Because I tried to help her son. No one ever used that word before, you know?”

She nodded in understanding; it really must feel weird to be called nice for once when everyone else had used harsher words to describe him. To her relief, she also noticed that his eyes turned to a paler shade of grey again, a sign that he was calming down.

“You know, she actually thinks that I'm a surprisingly good hugger. I've just never really hugged anyone one before...”

“She does?” Hermione asked rather surprised; she had indeed never seen him hug anyone. No, he had always kept some distance from everyone else during their Hogwarts years—at least as far as she had been able to see.

He nodded, his gaze fixed on the empty mug in front of him. “She was upset about something, a-and looked like she wanted someone to hold her for a moment. She thinks it's comfortable.”

“So, she likes you then,” Hermione commented warmly.

“I think she did before... before that evening.”

Hermione smile softly. “What about you? I know it's probably not easy, but please try and tell me what you feel.”

“Honestly?” He looked up, his confusion clearly visible on his face. “I-I don't quite know right now,” he continued. “I like that she genuinely cares about me. She seems to take me the way I am.”

“A new experience, I guess...” She smiled once more, and finished her tea.

“Yes, absolutely,” he replied, sounding much calmer. “And I actually like holding her... I like her touch, it prickles and it's incredibly soothing.” He played with his mug. “I just don't understand why she does it if she likes me,” he then added quietly.

“That's something only she can tell you,” Hermione replied softly. Of course she had noticed the insecurity in his voice; gone was his cockiness with which he usually tried to cover his confusion or insecurity—a rare moment, but she understood that he was open with her because he indeed needed her help.

“What do you think I should do? Wait for her?”

Hermione shook her head. “No. I think you need to take the initiative and try to ask her if you could talk. I mean, you sound like you're done waiting, or you wouldn't have contacted me. You're not a really patient person.”

“True. So, you say that I should just take the first step and get through the confrontation?”

She nodded. “I'm not saying it's going to be easy, she might be just as upset as you are right now. But I think you two really need to clarify your relationship. You need to know where you're standing. Just please listen when she tries to explain herself, okay?”

He nodded. “I'll try.”

“Good.” She smiled encouragingly. “And trust yourself a bit more, you're a better person than you think you are...”

“I don't know how. I tend to screw things up, you know?”

“Take small steps. Why not write down what you have achieved so far since you came up here? Write down the good things, I do that when I have a bad day; it really helps when I then read the list again. And you seem to handle daily life in a Muggle town rather well, considering your previous knowledge about it–”

“Thanks to your _small_ list of books...”

She chuckled at his exaggerating gesture. “And you trust yourself enough to care for a boy every day for several hours, even come to his help with the bullies. I would consider that a good start. Maybe you could even take up a hobby that might help you trust yourself a bit further. Archery for example, it's also a good mental training. Or join a book club, since you seem to be such an avid reader–”

“I seriously hope the book club was a joke...”

“Yeah, sorry.” With a grin, she grabbed her bag and started searching for something. “I almost forgot... I brought you this. Might help during the day.” She handed him a small package.

He opened it, and found several vials labelled 'Calming Draught' in it. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Is there anything else you want to talk about since I'm here already? Any questions about Muggle life?”

He shook his head. “That was all. Thanks for coming.”

She nodded. “Thanks for the tea.” She got up and shouldered her bag, ready to leave. “See you.”

  
_Helen,_

 _I don't know why you've been avoiding me for the last two weeks. I thought we were something like friends._  
_I know what I agreed to that night, it was what it was..._  
_But I think after two weeks you at least owe me the chance of a talk because this can't go on._

_Draco_

 

It took Helen two whole days to react to Draco's note. He had given it to Tom, who had promised to make sure that she read it and that he would continue to nag her until she would give an answer. That day, Draco and Tom were playing their usual round of chess with Tom clearly winning once more; it was currently Draco's turn to move, but he was distracted by the discovery of Helen climbing through the hole in the edge between their respective properties—her white shirt reflected the light from his house in the darkness.

"Draco, why don't you play?" Tom asked, having noticed the other's absent stare outside.

Draco meanwhile watched Helen reluctantly coming up to the door; she looked all tense and ready to run back any second. A knot grew in his stomach and he suddenly was anxious about the impeding confrontation, despite having asked for it in his note. And seeing her again after those two weeks brought back all the memories of their night together—he remembered how soft not only her touch had felt, but also how hungry and demanding her kisses had been. These memories made his skin now tingle, almost with anticipation, and a small shiver ran down his spine. Merlin, he didn't want to remember all those things right now; it was enough that he was still somewhat angry about how she had handled the aftermath of their night together. Now all tense himself, he got up to open the door in order to let her in. "Hey," he greeted her, more strained that he had hoped.

“Hi,” Helen whispered upon entering inside, avoiding to look at him.

“Mum? You said we could play two games today before I had to come home...” Tom sounded a bit disappointed that he couldn't finish his game, being so close to defeat Draco again.

“Yes, sweetheart, I know I said that. But dinner is ready _now._ So, let's go home, okay?” She grabbed Tom's school bag, still strictly avoiding glancing in Draco's direction, who kept standing at the door, watching them.

“No. You have to talk to Draco first.”

“Tom!”

“NO!” Tom let out angrily. The chess pieces started to move, and even the books on the shelves threatened to come out. “Mum, you promised...”

Draco noticed that Helen looked shocked at Tom's sudden outburst; even he was rather surprised, though less shocked, at what just happened—Tom had just shown an involuntary burst of magic, despite his anger management class. But nobody could really remain unaffected in such a situation. He noticed that Helen took a deep breath, her hands turned into fists; she was definitely upset right now, though she did try to keep it together for her son's sake. "Helen," he finally tried to say.

She shook her head, making it clear that she didn't want to hear what he might have to say right now, apparently fearing her own reaction. "Not now," she whispered instead, and then swallowed hard; she was still avoiding his gaze. "I-I'll come back later."

He just nodded.

“Now, please, Tom, let's go home. Dinner is getting cold.” Sighing, she shouldered Tom's school bag, and offered him her hand.

Tom had of course watched the small scene them, slumping his shoulders in disappointment at the outcome. "Bye, Draco. See you tomorrow," he then said and grabbed his mother's hand to go back over.

Draco just waved when they left through the garden door, and watched them both climb through the hole back into their own garden. This had been a weird moment, with Tom showing an involuntary burst of magic, and her being so tense in his presence, even looking sad. All he could do now was wait and see if she would keep her word and come back later this evening.

 

And Draco waited long until, at a very late hour, Helen finally came over. Her knock on his front door was so quiet that he almost missed it; only her calling his name as well made him realise that she was indeed there.

“Hey,” he said when he opened the door, trying to sound friendly enough so that she wasn't scared away just yet. “Come in, please.”

Helen breathed in deeply, looking as if she was gathering all of her courage before she reluctantly entered, though she still avoided his gaze. “Y-Your note said you wanted to talk.”

“Yes, after two weeks of avoiding I think it's necessary.” He walked towards the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink? I think I even have some wine somewhere...” If she didn't want it, he at least felt as if he needed a glass to relax.

“Wine sounds like a good idea,” she replied, “though I already had some before coming here.” Despite trying to sound calm, the insecurity still shone through in her voice and she even hugged herself for a moment before curling up in one corner of the big sofa piece.

Draco came back minutes later with two glasses of wine and was somewhat taken aback by how tiny she suddenly looked the way she was sitting on his sofa; seeing her so nervous blew some of his still lingering anger away. “Here.” He handed her a glass and then sat down on the other end of the big piece. He was surprised to watch her gulp down her wine in one go, leaving only a few sips. “You look tired.”

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the glass in her hand. “Couldn't really sleep in the last couple of weeks–”

“Me neither.”

“I'm sorry about that,” she whispered, ending with a sigh.

He nodded, still watching her intently. “I... There's something I need to know.”

“You're n-not going to be mad at me?” she asked, still only whispering, fiddling with the glass in her hand.

“No. At least not right now.” With a faint smile, he could watch her relax visibly after hearing that, though she remained all curled up. Was that why she had been avoiding him? Fear of him being mad at her? Hell, he was still annoyed, but no, he wasn't going to be mad at her anymore—the conversation with Granger had helped him get over that. ”But there's really something I don't understand...”

Helen swallowed hard, and then nodded, putting her now empty glass on the table.

“Why? Why would you first ask to kiss me, which led us to having sex, and then avoid me completely? Was it that bad?”

“God, no!” She shortly laughed nervously and then tried to hide her blushing cheeks behind her knees. “Did you think that? I-It wasn't bad at all, given the circumstances. I mean I haven't really been with a man like that ever since Tom was born...” She breathed deeply. “But afterwards, I just felt ashamed–”

“Why?”

“Because you were... you are a good friend, someone I could talk to, you know, about feeling lonely and everything, and you understood it. A-And then I just had to ruin everything by sleeping with you.” She rubbed her eyes which had started to well up from all the emotions in her; her voice already sounded strained.

“You didn't ruin anything, Helen,” he replied, trying to sound calm; though, just like her, he could feel all that bottled-up emotions of the last two weeks surfacing once more—all that angry hurt, the confusion, even the disgust at himself for a short moment. “I knew then what it was about, what I agreed to. I didn't think it would change anything.”

Helen didn't respond this time, just buried her face between her legs, breathing in deeply. “Tom told me you were angry,” she finally said, still more of a whisper.

“What do you think? You were avoiding me...” Now his voice sounded angrier than he had intended; he just had to let her know the extent of his own turmoil. “Most of the time, I just wanted to yell at you for that. I felt rejected–”

“Rejected?”

“Yes. Rejected.” He breathed in deeply to regain his calm. “And I suffered from a load of nightmares because of it,” he added.

She finally looked at him, a tired smile on her lips. “About me?”

He shook his head. “Stuff from my past.”

She sighed. “I'm sorry about that. That's not what I wanted–”

“It's better now. But still, why did you run away?”

She rubbed her legs shortly, and sighed once more. “I guess I thought you wouldn't like me anymore because I kind of just used you to feel something. Still feel bad about it–”

“Don't.”

She smiled faintly, and put her chin on her knee. “I missed you,” she said, a few awkwardly silent moments later, her voice a cracking whisper now. “I missed how you tried to make me smile whenever I came over to pick up Tom, I missed the small banters we had... A-And I missed you holding me.”

He watched her for a few seconds. She still seemed tiny, sitting all curled up on his sofa, and putting her heart out like that. He finally took a sip from his wine glass, after having had it in his hands all through the conversation; the wine had warmed up accordingly. “I missed you too,” he quietly admitted, missing her soft smile in response to it.

For a while, neither of them said anything, both trying to figure out what to say or do next—Draco played with his wine, while Helen kept staring absently into the room, repeatedly sighing deeply. But then, she slowly started to uncurl her legs, smiling shyly at him. "I'm really sorry for putting you through that. I-I was an idiot, you know? I should have come over sooner." With her legs uncurled, she moved an inch or two towards him, apparently feeling more comfortable again in his presence.

With a small relieved smile, Draco noticed her move, and was glad for it. "Believe me, I was idiot for waiting. I'm not that patient, but it actually took the visit of a friend to realise that," he then admitted. Oh yes, Granger had made sure that he realised he had been an idiot too! "I should have asked earlier for a talk." And to his further relief, he noticed her continuing to move closer; he had missed her touch so much, and now basically longed for it.

"We both were idiots then, not handling this situation well," she replied with a relieved sigh, then her let a broader and warmer smile curl up her lips.

Draco felt how relief finally replaced his anger, and he couldn't resist returning her smile while putting his half-empty glass on the table next to her empty one. Merlin, how had he missed that smile! "We most definitely were," he replied, leaning back and closing the gap between them even further.

“God, absolute idiots. Like small children, really.” She chuckled at the thought. And she finally grabbed his hand in a probably unconscious move.

He could feel a shiver run through his body from the sudden touch and the prickling feeling of it; he held her hand tight, not wanting to let her go again. Instead, he pulled her even closer.

Helen let him pull her all the way up, until she was leaning against him, or rather ending up halfway lying on him, her head nestled on his chest. “You're still comfortable,” she said softly, and smiled broadly when she felt him wrap his other arm around her. “So, are we friends again, then?” she asked, letting her own free hand run small circles on his side.

“Friends.”

“I'm glad about it.” She smiled. “I would love if we could include more frequent hugs, they always feel great.” She closed her eyes, enjoying the strokes of his fingers on her back.

“Of course.” Yes, Draco loved her hugs too; they had made him feel better, and he had loved how they had also made him feel connected to her in a new, surprising way — yes, _surprising_ was a good word for him who had kept a distance to others all his life, even his family.

She looked up, a hopeful smile on her lips. “What about the occasional kiss? I-I really liked kissing you, you know?”

“And what if we don't stop at that?” he replied earnestly, continuing his strokes on her back. “Are you going to freak out again? I need to know because honestly, I don't think I could survive going through that again.”

She sighed. “Sorry. I wasn't thinking. I just liked our kisses...”

He let his hand on her back wander upwards, and started brushing through her hair; he smiled when he could hear her purr lowly in response. “Just promise me you won't freak out again...”

“I-I don't know,” she replied confused, and closed her eyes again. “Just don't stop that, it feels so nice.”

“I won't, as long as you don't stop what you've been doing with your hand for the last couple of minutes...”

“Your skin is so soft there, it's tempting, you know?”

He pulled her up carefully so that her face came up to his; he wanted to have a better look at her, and was almost blown by the look in her eyes. There was a light golden shimmer in their usual deep green colouring, a sign of the resurging desire she had just been hinting at. "You really want to repeat it?" he murmured breathlessly, mesmerised by the look in her eyes; he let his thumb run over her lips, those damn soft lips. "You really want repeat it all? The whole mess?"

She licked her lips where his thumb had just run over. "I don't... It's just–"

"Helen, I can't go through all that again," he interrupted her, his hands now framing her face. "I just can't. Please. I _need_ you to promise me not to run away again.”

Breathing heavily, she searched him for an answer. “I c-can't promise that it won't be awkward,” she finally whispered, laying her hands on his, and letting her thumbs stroke over his skin.. “But I won't run away this time.”

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Invite me to dinner tomorrow.” Another gentle kiss on one side of her jaw, even sucking it carefully. “This way, you have no chance–” And another gentle kiss on the other side, repeating the sucking as well. “–to run away.” He was trembling now, feeling intoxicated by her closeness and her apparent desire; he was only barely able to hold back. Gods, he so wanted to taste those lips again, suck them and taste the wine on them. And then he just wanted to kiss every other part of her body that would make her gasp and that would make her moan so heavily like the last time.

“Yes,” she finally panted, “come over for dinner.” She put one leg over his hips, so that she came to sit on his lap again, just like last time. She let out a low hungry moan when she noticed his arousal press against her folds. Breathing raggedly now, she run her hands through his hair and pulled him closer for a kiss.

The first touch of her lips was electrifying and it sent shivers through his whole body, though she had only just brushed his. With his hands on her hips, he pulled her closer, and bit back a moan from the increased pressure on his arousal. Merlin, this felt great! When she kissed him again, he answered it hungrily, parting her lips with his tongue in his desire to devour every corner of her mouth; her hands pulling roughly at his shirt only added to his exhilarated feeling. This time, it felt even better!

 


	6. Little stubborn neighbour

The next morning, Draco woke up with a throbbing head, but other than that, he felt surprisingly well. It was raining outside, though he still found the daylight way too bright for his eyes. He felt exhausted, though he had slept deeply and without any nightmares for once; additionally, his muscles felt rather sore, and protested at any move he dared to try. And his lips, they still felt puffed, or even bruised. Daring to have a look, he noticed that he was in his own room, and it looked rather messy. He grinned, they must have been thorough last night, and he vaguely remembered using the chest of drawers, as well as the floor at one point before actually ending up on his bed. Merlin, this was most definitely a great ending to that long-needed conversation they had, though he still wasn't so sure whether it was a good idea to include that in their what? Friendship? Relationship? He didn't care at the moment, at least they were talking with each other again and they most definitely _liked_ each other.

Groaning like an old man from his sore muscles, Draco finally managed to get up for his morning routine in the bathroom, a look in the mirror included. The way to the bathroom was plastered with hastily removed clothing; he kicked what looked like a strap top out of his way, remembering how he had pulled it off Helen. Her blouse might still be somewhere too. And he remembered that simple black bra that she had been wearing underneath the strap top, revealing those perfect round breasts when he had managed to unhook it. Gods, the sounds he could elicit from her by licking and sucking them... And then that loud gasp turning into a long moan when he finally entered her; he had seen stars for a second when he had felt her so tight around his cock, and he had needed quite a bit of control not to lose it right there, because it had just felt perfect. And now, already thinking about it, made him feel all excited and aroused again. That and the prospect of tonight's dinner made him grin broadly; it had actually been rather sly of him to ask her to invite him just to prove that she wouldn't avoid him again. He was very much looking forward to it, but he didn't quite know where it would go this time. Anything was possible between them right now, so he would already be happy with a nice dinner, entertained by Tom and his stories from school.

After checking in the bathroom mirror that his lips were okay, despite them feeling a bit rough and bruised, he wandered downstairs for some breakfast. He actually felt good enough to try and use the kettle this morning to boil some water for his morning coffee he preferred to have with his breakfast. So, while he was waiting for the kettle to whistle, he pulled out everything else, and either put it on the table or made it ready for a short fry in the pan. But Draco had been rather optimistic with the kettle because as soon as it started to whistle, the noise filled his head, making him wince in pain. And then it turned into Granger's screaming again from when she had been tortured. “Merlin, NO!” He was just able to put the kettle off the still turned-on stove before his senses were completely overwhelmed by the whole memory.

Seconds later, Draco regained consciousness and found himself on the floor, his head throbbing even harder than before. He pulled himself back up and leaned against the counter to regain his balance, rubbing his head. Great, the flashbacks were still there and the kettle was apparently still off limits. He sighed. In that case, when would the nightmares come back then? With another sigh, he poured the water into the previously prepared mug and sat down at the table, not trusting himself right now to fry the rest of the breakfast. The decent sleep he had had last night was probably just the exception because he had been with Helen for most of the night. He was sure he would still suffer the nightmares, as long as the Daily Prophet would run those atrocious stories about the trials. Where was the delivery owl anyway?

With the delivery of the newspaper, Draco's day turned even worse. There was yet another trial going on and the Daily Prophet would, of course, put it on its front page again, including all the delicate details. This time, the accused Death Eater had been a member of the Dark Lord's inner circle called Nott; Draco remembered him vaguely sitting at the table with the Dark Lord, he had almost been as fanatic as his aunt Bellatrix. Those two probably even had some competition running who could serve the Dark Lord better. The article mentioned his father as well, catching his attention; his parents both had to testify in this trial, like in several others before. And this time, his father had apparently lost his temper when Nott had taunted him with his arrogance, calling him a loser for failing the Dark Lord, not able to obtain the Prophecy, even mentioning that the Dark Lord would not even spare his most devout followers who had disappointed him from torture. But—according to the newspaper—what had let his father lose his temper was Nott's taunt that Lucius had basically sacrificed his son and that he had now lost him for real. Yes, Draco remembered that his father had looked very different when he had come home that day, extremely pale and distraught, and even avoiding his gaze. And then the Dark Lord had wanted to speak to him, with his parents in the background, who were forced to listen to everything. He still remembered the Dark Lord's cold voice, it still rang in his ears, and it let a cold shiver run down his spine. It was that moment when his life indirectly had been declared forfeit, as the Dark Lord had told him to kill Dumbledore or watch his parents get killed in front of his eyes before losing his life as well. After that, his life had been a living hell.

 

“Mum, we're here!” Tom shouted when he came in through the front door of his home that evening, with Draco following him. They had, as always, spent the afternoon at Draco's place, first doing homework and later playing some chess, until the time Helen had told him to come home and bring Draco along had approached, making Tom grin like a Cheshire Cat. “Mum?”

“In the kitchen, my dear!” Helen answered. “Why don't you come in as well?”

It smelled delicious when Draco entered the kitchen, where he discovered Helen handling a pan with what looked like tomato sauce. And there was water boiling in another pot. “Hey. Smells great.”

She smiled when she saw him. “You really made it.”

“You promised me a nice dinner, so here I am.” Draco placed himself next to the stove; he found it interesting to watch her cook.

“And I'm not hiding, see?” she replied with that smile that brightened her whole face, and that Draco had come to love so much.

“Did you two talk yesterday?” Tom asked, trying to steal some of the sauce with a finger; he clearly noticed the proximity between them, and his mother's bright smile.

“We did my dear. Can you get me the spaghetti from the cupboard? The long ones...”

Draco watched Tom eagerly fish for the spaghetti; it looked like he usually helped her cook. But right now, the delicious smell of the sauce made him seriously hungry.

“Here.” Helen handed him a glass of wine that she had filled while he was watching Tom, then toasted him. “Dinner will be ready soon; the pasta needs only a few minutes. Tom? Can you put the plates on the table? I've put them here for you.” She pointed at the three plates at the end of the kitchen work area. “Afterwards you can get the cutlery too.”

“Okay.” Smiling, Tom brought the plates out to the table in the living room.

“You look good today,” Helen commented when her son was out of the kitchen. “Was great last night, by the way.”

He nodded. “I found your top this morning, amongst other things...”

“Yeah, I couldn't find all my things in the darkness.” She smiled slightly embarrassed and then took a sip of her wine.

“When did you leave? I kind of remember falling asleep next to you...”

“I don't know exactly,” Helen replied, stirring the sauce gently. “I watched you sleep for a while, then went home. I had to be back before Tom got up.”

Draco took a sip from his glass, while letting his gaze wander over her. She still wore her work attire—a pair of greyish high-cut trousers that accentuated her backside nicely combined with a fitting white buttoned blouse. For a short moment, he was tempted to squeeze her bottom like he had done the night before while she had been riding him tantalisingly slow. But now, she looked relaxed, and she apparently couldn't stop smiling broadly—it almost made her glow.

“Mum? Cutlery?” Tom came back for the rest, grinning when he saw the other two standing so close to each other in the kitchen.

"There you are, sweetheart..." Helen handed him forks and spoons, and he left the kitchen again.

"He was already grinning broadly when we played this afternoon," Draco commented, taking another sip of his wine.

Helen nodded, stirring the pasta in the water. "He was happy when I told him this morning to bring you over with him for dinner."

"And here I am."

She looked at him, still showing that broad smile on her lips. "Want to test the pasta?" she asked then, handing him a fork with some rolled-up spaghetti she had just fished out of the boiling water. "Though they do already look good. So I might just pour them anyway..."

Draco took the fork and slurped the spaghetti in, to Helen's amusement. She had already made pasta once for a dinner, but he never had spaghetti before—they had never been served at Malfoy Manor when he had been a child. He definitely liked her pasta and her sauces, but right now he was also wondering a bit how he was supposed to eat them later.

“They're good, right?”

He nodded. “I suppose they are.”

“Mum? Table is ready...” Tom came back in, and came to stand next to Draco. “You know, she was smiling this morning when she came to wake me.”

“We did talk, you know? We're friends again...”

“I promise we won't do such a thing again, sweetheart,” Helen added while pouring the pasta into the sieve, and then into a bowl, where she mixed it with the tomato sauce. “Ready. Now, let's eat. You both looked starved.”

Dinner proved to be rather amusing for them all—Draco tried to imitate Helen's way of rolling up the spaghetti on the fork, but didn't manage to do it as gracefully as her. She showed him repeatedly, with a smirk on her face every time, while Tom—who had his spaghetti still cut up to smaller pieces—teased him about where he came from that he didn't know how to eat spaghetti. And thank Merlin for napkins, or his shirt wouldn't have survived the evening without stains.

 

Afterwards, Tom wanted to play one of his new games that he had received on his birthday, before his mother would insist on his bed time again. It was a card game, but both Helen and Draco had never played it, while Tom took it with him to school to play it with his friends; Helen and Draco hence played together against Tom, and yet still lost.

“So, bed now, Tom. Tomorrow is another school day.”

“But I don't have to get up so early on Fridays, Mum,” Tom pleaded. He didn't want to go to bed yet, at least not as long as Draco was still there.

“Tom, do we have to discuss that every night?” Helen asked with a smile, though sounding serious.

“But Draco is here–”

“Tom, please. Get ready for bed like a big boy. I'll come up as soon as you're ready.”

“Can't–”

“No. Please get ready for bed, Tom.”

With a disappointed sigh, Tom got up from the table to get upstairs.

“Thanks again for the invitation,” Draco said when Tom was finally upstairs, while he helped Helen collect the remaining game cards.

“You insisted on it as a guarantee for last night,” she replied, smiling warmly. “Though you didn't really answer my question, as far as I can remember...”

“I was distracted by other things, your fingers under my shirt for example.”

“As if your head massage was any less distracting!” She laughed. “No, but seriously, I don't want to impose anything on you that you might not be comfortable with; I'd be just as fine with hugs–”

“Then I'll keep my original answer: As long as you're not running away again–”

“But–”

“After tonight, I think I can trust you enough not to do that again.”

“I won't.”

"But _if_ you do it, I _will_ come after you," he vowed, and tried to soften the implied threat with a warm smile and a wink; he handed her the cards he had collected, brushing her fingers in the process. "However, it's a nice evening so far, nothing's awkward... And the spaghetti were delicious–"

"And in the end, you even figured out how to eat them!" she joked, and sorted the cards into the game box. "So, you really think you can handle frequent hugs–"

“Yes.”

“–and the occasional kiss?” She came up to him, a teasing smile curling up on her lips.

He took her hand, the touch prickling gently. “I'll let you know if it gets too much.” It was a rather weird request, but just like she had said and shown the night before, he had come to like their kisses too much to say no now.

“Mum? I'm ready!”

Helen let out a sigh, having been pulled out of the moment by the impeccable timing of her son. “You going to stay a bit longer? I'll just tuck in Tom and maybe read him a bit. You might even hear me butcher a lullaby. Then we could talk a bit more, maybe actually figure out how to label our situation and what to expect from it?”

“Mu-u-um!”

“Go upstairs, I'll wait here,” Draco replied, pressing a content peck on her cheek, and then watched her go upstairs. The evening was going nicely; he definitely didn't want to let it finish just yet. It had been a relaxed atmosphere, and it felt nice that there had been no expectation on either side so far—and she looked so great this evening, completely comfortable in his presence. He was glad about that fact because he had said the truth the night before, that he probably wouldn't have survived another round of self-doubt and nightmares. Her closeness moments ago had been tempting, he had wanted to answer that teasing smile of hers with a kiss, tasting that wonderful mouth of hers again, and then leave a trail of brushed kisses down her neck; he knew she had a spot there that made her go weak.

“Finally,” Helen whispered when she came back down, all smiling. “He's asleep.”

“No butchering of a lullaby?”

“Thank God, no. he just wanted to know what we talked about, actually. Told me that he is glad that we like each other again.”

“Yes, it wasn't exactly fair on him, was it?”

“No, it really wasn't. I think I might need to get him a really big Christmas present this year for that story.” Helen went to the kitchen. “Want some more wine? Or some coffee?”

“Want help with the bottle?” He followed her, but then remained in the door frame, watching her fumble around with the wine bottle.

“Now he asks.” She chuckled. “Who do you think opened the other bottle?” And with a loud _plop_ , she managed to open the bottle a few moments later, and then took two new glasses from the cupboard. “But you know, sometimes it's a bit the same at work. I'm the only woman on the team. Most of the times it's fun, but sometimes it's a bit frustrating, because the men forget that I'm their colleague, not their secretary. I know it's not done on purpose, but still annoying. But whenever they do it, they find that task untouched on their desk the next morning. I can live with the bad jokes and puns, I can give back just as good, and their ego is not hurt when I tell a joke that hits them. At least I know how to open a wine bottle...”

“You're the only woman at work?”

“Yes, actually kind of normal in my field of work. Women are still rather unusual, but—thank God!—not completely unheard of... Here's your wine.” She came closer to hand him his glass, licking her lips.

“Thanks. I'm sure you already told me, but what exactly is your job?”

“Come, let's sit on the sofa, that's more comfortable than the kitchen door frame,” she replied, then started walking to the sofa, with Draco following her. “I work with computers; we maintain and look after the software of other firms and businesses. It's still a male-dominated field, but women are gaining ground, you know? I see more and more women each time I attend a training course to keep up with the technology,” she explained. “However, the men in my team don't hold back with their jokes and puns. I just give back as good and I think they do like me for that.”

“Reminds me of someone I know...”

“The friend who talked you out of being an idiot?” She smiled and sat down in a comfortable position, one leg under the other.

“I think you would like her. She always gave back as good as I handed her.” He sat down next to her, leaning back.

“Sounds indeed like someone I might like.” She took a sip from her wine and looked at him.

“So, how do you keep the men in your team in check?”

“My charms?” she countered, raising her eyebrows and chuckling slightly. “No, really. They aren't that bad actually; just need a reminder from time to time. And my boss is actually quite nice, he has kids himself.” She took another sip from her glass. “I'm really good at what I do, that's why I can leave work every evening at the same time to spend time with Tom—and you now. I mean the projects are never-ending work; I could pull all-nighters and still not finish. I rather spend my evenings at home and listen to Tom's day at school. I really love my job, that's what I did all my diplomas for, against the better judgement of my parents—or at least the better judgement of my mother.” She sighed. “In her mind, a woman should rather become something like a teacher, or maybe a nurse or something like that. But I've always found computers much more interesting, I've always liked to take things apart and figure out how they work. Though relationships might be the exception I guess.”

He looked at her for a second; her cheeks were slightly flushed, and there was a small golden spark in her eyes; she was even licking her lips absent-mindedly, which looked a bit darker than usual due to the red wine they were having. “I admire your passion for what you do. I'm still trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. I'm not sure right now what my strengths are, you know?” To distract himself from the picture of her in a more undressed state forming in his head, he drank a sip.

“I'm sure you'll find something. And I know at least one thing you're surprisingly good at,” she teased and leaned forward to place a peck on his cheek.

He smiled softly at her peck; with his free hand he kept her from leaning back, letting his thumb stroke over her cheek. "With you it was easy enough because you let me know what you wanted..."

"I like that you actually cared to take the hints, that makes it good for me," she replied in a whisper, gazing straight back into his eyes. She took his glass and put both of them on the table; then she leaned forward, placing her hands on his that were still framing her face.

Draco was blown away for a moment, his eyes fixed on her tongue running over her lips. Should he really just kiss her? She had tasted so wonderful last night; still hungry, but not as desperate anymore, rather sweet actually. And he did want more of that.

"Draco, don't think too much," she whispered, barely audible, still gently caressing his hands on the sides of her face.

"You're sure?" he husked, brushing her lips with his.

Helen nodded gently. "Just kiss me. It's okay."

With that, Draco pressed his lips on hers, surprised to find them already parted. And she just as soft as he remembered, tasted even better now, as tender as she responded to his tongue entering. Gods, he started to forget his surroundings, his mind completely focused on the feel of her lips on his.

Helen only broke off when she had to catch her breath. "Just like yesterday," she whispered contentedly.

He shook his head. "Better."

She grinned sheepishly at that, her already flushed cheeks turning even redder. "You're a good kisser. And I'm sure you'll find something that want to follow through. After all, you still have more than enough time..." She brushed her lips on his one last time, then let go of him, even tried to straighten the mess she had caused on his head. "You know, some Roman philosopher once said 'Carpe Diem', which roughly translates to–"

“– _pluck the day_ , I think.” He raked through his hair back and, with a grin, noticed the mess her hands had made; and after a deep breath, he grabbed his glass and leaned back.

“You know Latin?” she asked, copying his move, leaning back.

“Just some basics, helped with some of my classes back in school.”

“One day, you need to tell me about that...” Helen yawned. “But not today.”

“One day maybe...” Amused, he watched her fight another yawn. “I think you should go to bed too. You didn't get much sleep last night–”

“Thanks to you!” She smiled. “But yes, I should probably go to bed now too. I have a project meeting tomorrow morning and I need a clear head.” She yawned again. “It's just that this is such a nice evening, and I don't really want to end it already.”

“I know...” Draco finished his glass of wine and then got up. “Come, I don't want to be the cause of you falling asleep in that all-important meeting tomorrow...” He offered her his hand to help her up.

With a tired smile, Helen let herself be pulled up. “Can I get a hug for goodbye? Just a hug, I'm dead tired now...”

He took her wine glass and placed it on the table as well. “Of course. It's been a really nice evening.” He opened his arms and let her wrap hers around him.

“Hmm... It was. I'm really glad you insisted on it.” She let out a low purring sound and closed her eyes for a moment. "This is still my favourite position besides... you know."

“Don't fall asleep here...” He chuckled and gently rubbed her back. “If you do, I would need to carry you upstairs.”

“Hmm... Don't give me ideas,” she replied lazily, her eyes still closed.

“Another day,” he replied and couldn't resist placing a small kiss on her head, taking in that scent of summer flowers in her hair. “I'll see you tomorrow when you pick up Tom.”

She nodded and then, with a sigh, opened her eyes again to look at him before she broke off the embrace. “See you tomorrow.”

 

Almost the whole month of November passed by in a similar way—Helen came over in the evening to pick up Tom at Draco's place after work, and they would exchange a few words about their respective days, maybe even some bantering, and then usually hugged for goodbye. Or she would invite him for dinner and some talking every other evening, and he would accept about two or three times a week, or when she insisted that he didn't look that well, and needed some company that evening—usually after the Daily Prophet had run another front page on the trials, with special mentions of his parents. Those evenings were always comfortable; when Tom had gone to bed, they would spend hours talking on the sofa, leaning against each other. Helen would then tell him more about her life or her work, while Draco tried to figure out what he could tell her about his own life. She rarely initiated anything except the hugs which now did regularly because—as Draco figured—she didn't want to impose herself on him. Their kiss remained the only one throughout the month, though they were both tempted to repeat it on several occasions; instead they just enjoyed the hours the spent together on the sofa, talking about life and their respective days. Those evenings were now something Draco added to his usual fortnightly updates to Granger because she had said she wanted to be kept updated about this—she even replied approvingly and encouraging to his first update.

 

An evening in late November was one when Helen had insisted on him coming over for dinner as he hadn't looked so well that day. “I'm a bit worried about you,” she said when they were sitting on the sofa after Tom had finally gone to bed. “You looked really pale when I picked up Tom, but I didn't want to ask in front of him... Are you having nightmares again?”

He nodded and pulled her closer towards him. “I've read something in the newspaper that triggered a really bad one. I haven't slept much because every time I tried to close my eyes last night, the images came back.”

“Sounds bad.” She put the glass she had been holding until then on the table and looked at him, genuinely concerned. He hadn't had any really upsetting nightmares ever since they had had their talk, only sometimes images showing up in his sleep—at least as far as he told her.

“Just hold me for a moment.” He sighed. “I tend to sleep better after we hug...”

“Of course.” She leaned towards him for the embrace; she had come to love the way he always seemed to wrap his whole body around her. “If you want, I have something here that could help you sleep,” she said gently after she could feel his arms around her; she could feel it prickle strongly, and figured it was connected to his upset state. Her hands meanwhile started to draw small circles on his back, something that always seemed to calm him down.

Draco shook his head. "I've got something at home that might help," he replied; he started placing kisses on her cheek and neck, lingering for a moment on the spot where her jaw and her neck joined.

"Hmm," Helen let out when he gently sucked on that spot; as much as she liked his attentions, she got the impression that he was somewhat desperate for more this evening. “D-Do you think that's a good idea in your state?” she then asked in a surprisingly husky whisper. “Because you do need your sleep...”

“I don't want it all,” he replied softly and continued to kiss her neck and her jaw, slowly advancing towards her lips. “Just kiss me,” he begged when he finally arrived at her lips and brushed over them with his tongue.

“Nothing more.” Helen started to feel a bit light-headed from the kisses, but she was still worried that it might be too much.

“Nothing more,” he replied, brushing her lips with his once more.

She looked at him for a moment and noticed his slightly darkened eyes; it made her shiver. “I-I'll stop when I think it is too much because you _are_ already exhausted.” She brought her hands up, gently cupping his cheeks and then, as gently, pressed her lips on his, letting her tongue run over them, asking for entrance. She was surprised by the desperate hunger with which he responded; he was basically devouring her while he let his hands run through her hair, which made her scalp tingle from the touch. God, she really loved his kisses, they were always so filled with everything he otherwise kept hidden, and they always made her feel dizzy and hungry for more. With a smile, she could feel him moan when she scratched his neck. Then she noticed his hands. “We need to stop now,” she murmured, barely hiding her own disappointment; he had started to pull her clothes up to get to her skin underneath and she had liked it too much. Far too much. If she didn't stop it now, they would go through with it all.

Reluctantly, and just as disappointed, he nodded. “You taste good...”

She smiled; if only he knew how hard it was for her to stop right now... “We can continue when you feel better, okay? Now, you better get home, take your sleep medicine and try to get some decent sleep.” She placed a kiss on his forehead. “I'm not going anywhere.” She slowly started to climb off him and off the sofa and then offered him her hand to help him up.

“Thanks.” Draco breathed in deeply and shook his head to clear his mind when he was standing.

“See you tomorrow,” she whispered, still smiling gently. “I hope you can sleep better tonight.”

 

During the last week of November, which spread into December, Draco had several nightmares, though the last one was the most disturbing one of them all. That nightmare was even more bizarre than the ones about his past, to which he had grown slightly accustomed by now, though they still scared him like hell. So, that last nightmare was about the two times he had had sex with Helen. At first it had been very pleasurable—the memory of her skin made his own prickle, the sound of her gasps and moans sent shivers down his spine and aroused him even, but then the dream started to go wrong. Suddenly, the touch of her skin wasn't soft anymore, but instead burned him, and her passionate kisses turned into bites. But what scared the shit out of him was the moment when she turned into the same formless figure—gleaming all in red and green—that already haunted his other nightmares about Dumbledore or Granger.

Now he woke up screaming from dreaming about Helen too; his mind must really be fucked, because that wasn't how it was supposed to be. “No, not that too!” he panted angrily that night when he woke up, feeling completely disoriented and paralysed like after every other nightmare. If only he could just finally make those bloody nightmares stop! Without them, he might have already gone further with Helen; but instead he was now having nightmares about her too! Thank you, bloody universe! How was he going to tell her _that_? Seriously, how? With a sigh, he got up for his usual after-nightmare morning routine of valerian tea and reading downstairs.

 

“You look terrible,” Tom remarked when he came over that afternoon; it was one of the first days of December, and it had been snowing lightly.

“Another bad dream last night, that's all.” Draco let him enter, and immediately closed the door after him, as it was freezing outside and he was only wearing his comfortable set of home clothes.

“You seem to have a lot of them.” Tom sat down and got ready for his homework.

“I saw enough things in my past that cause nightmares...”

“Bad things?”

“Really bad things. And I'd rather not tell you, or your mother might kill me for scaring you...”

“Okay.” Tom nodded, and then started to read the first task, though his grin grew bigger and bigger with every breath.

“You look like you want to tell me something? Did something good happen at school today?” Draco had of course noticed Tom's grin as well as the fact that the boy seemed to read the same paragraph again and again.

“We're going to do a Christmas play! And I'm allowed to play a small part...”

Draco smiled at Tom's enthusiasm, though he wasn't entirely sure that it was such a good idea to let Tom stand in the spotlight and perform something, but apparently his teachers thought differently and considered him stable enough. “What part then?”

“I just play one of the many kings that visit Baby Christ... I don't have any text, but I get to wear a costume and everything. And I sing in the choir.”

“Then you have to learn the song texts, you know? And your mother will have to make your costume...”

“Well, you could help me learn the texts, but we will also rehearse a lot at school anyway... The teachers said we would only get little homework, so that we can properly learn and rehearse everything for the play.”

“I'm not sure I'm such a big help with songs. I can't really sing, you know?” Draco found Tom's excitement contagious and couldn't help but grin himself, lifting his spirits somewhat.

“Did you have Christmas plays where you come from?”

Draco shook his head. “No, but we used to have a big feast before the break, with loads of food. And the whole room was always decorated with lots of candles, holly, some mistletoe, ribbons, and even a huge tree.” Yes, Christmas at Hogwarts had always been special, regardless of the House you belonged to; everyone had been in the festive mood to at least some extent and most students definitely enjoyed the Feast, stuffing themselves with all those delicious things the school's house-elves had prepared. Merlin, even he had to unbutton his trousers afterwards on more than one occasion because he had stuffed himself on those treats. Those were some of the few days he remembered as being actually good at Hogwarts.

Having told Draco the news about the play, Tom was now able to focus on his homework, and started working on them. It wasn't much, but knowing that they usually played afterwards, it was clear that he wanted to finish his homework as fast as he could—because the faster he finished, the faster they could play and continue talking about his part in the Christmas play.

While Tom was occupied with his homework, Draco watched him and let his thoughts wander a bit. He still wasn't so sure whether it was such a good idea to give Tom a role, as small as it might be; being in the spotlight usually meant a lot of stress, even without any text, and this could easily lead to another incident. Tom was full of magic that was waiting to get out; it just shouldn't happen at his school anymore. That there hadn't been any since he had started his anger management class didn't mean that there wouldn't be another one coming if provoked or stressed out enough. He had been playing with the thought of telling Granger about this, knowing that she would check it out—but it also meant that the wizarding world would drag him back, a thought he couldn't stand right now. What he shared with Helen and Tom was his own little fantasy, one that made him feel better and one that he definitely wasn't about to share with others willingly just yet. Yes, Helen was more than just _a bit_ older than he was, but maybe that was exactly what he needed—someone who was more mature than the girls his age, at least emotionally. And Helen didn't seem to care too much about the age gap of—as he guessed—ten years either, given the way she responded to him in their interactions, and especially given that she had been the one who had initiated both their intimate encounters.

He sighed, and continued watching Tom. Maybe it was a good sign that his teachers trusted him enough to give him the chance to stand on the stage, even without any text? He would still discuss his concerns with Helen in a quiet moment—not that he wanted to meddle in the upbringing of her son, just discuss it. And now with Helen in his thoughts, Draco started to drift off a little, he was in a better mood now, but still exhausted from the lack of sleep. His mind returned to their last kiss; he had asked for it because it had felt like the right thing in that moment, and because her close contact always seemed to help with his nightmares. She had let him devour her, trace the inside of her mouth, and let him taste her as much as he wanted. He had felt a warmth run through his body right then that chased away all the lingering images from his previous nightmares, and it had felt like a shield against any further nightmare. He also remembered how reluctantly she had stopped him, worried about his state. At least he had slept way better that night after he had come home—not completely undisturbed, but better.

“You okay?” Tom asked when he finally finished his homework and discovered that Draco looked rather absent.

Sighing, Draco kind of nodded. “Just tired.”

“I don't think it would be fun playing today,” Tom replied concerned. “You look like you would fall asleep on the board...”

“I won't,” Draco protested mildly and yawned; he knew full well that Tom was probably right. It wasn't a good idea to play chess with a competitive seven-year-old when he was dead tired and couldn't concentrate on anything for long.

“I've brought something to read, just in case.” Tom fished for his book in his bag.

“You always have something to read.”

“I like reading.”

“Okay, you read then, and I try not to fall asleep on the table.”

 

Draco was about to lose the fight against his tiredness when Helen finally came over to pick up Tom in the evening. “Wow, you look bad!” she said when he opened the door for her. “Still having nightmares?”

He nodded and suppressed a yawn before letting her in.

“Seriously, you've had nightmares all week, and I'm a bit worried now because you do start to look sick. You didn't even look as bad after those two weeks... You sure you don't want something to help you sleep? Maybe finally see a doctor about it?”

With a tired smile, he shook his head. “No, I'll be fine. Just tired.”

“Tom? Can you go home? I'll follow in a couple of minutes, okay?” Helen asked her son, who was already waiting with his bag shouldered and a big smile on his face.

“See you tomorrow.” And with a short wave, Tom disappeared through the garden door.

As soon as her son was out of sight, Helen hugged Draco. “You can't go on like this, you know? Don't do that because you think you deserve it for something you've done in your past.”

“I'm not,” he finally whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around Helen, not wanting to let her go again—neither her, nor that prickling feeling of calmness she provided with every hug. He wanted to keep her next to him for the rest of the night, knowing that she would be able to keep the demons away. But he couldn't tell her that.

Helen just held him for a long moment, sensing that this was what he needed right now. “I'll pick up Tom after school tomorrow, and take him to the museum, so that you can get some rest,” she then said quietly and looked up at him; her weak smile showed a hint of sadness, a sign that she understood what he tried to express with his tight embrace. She sighed and let her hands run up and down his back. “Listen, I'll come back over when Tom is finally in bed and asleep, I can't leave you alone like that, my dear. And I bring you the strongest stuff I have. It can literally knock out an elephant.”

He tried to smile and shook his head. “You don't need to do that. You've got work tomorrow...”

“...and I got a friend who needs some help.” She smiled sympathetically. “I really just want to help, you know, my little stubborn neighbour?”

“I know. And I'm not stubborn,” he replied, somewhat realising his slightly absent-minded state that she was trying to cheer him up.

“Then I'll check on you tomorrow when we're back. I want to be sure you're still alive because would actually quite miss you–”

“I promise I won't do anything stupid.”

She smiled. “Good. Feeling a bit better now?”

“You know I always do when we hug.” He breathed in deeply, trying to soak up as much of her warmth and calmness as he could to help him get through the night.

Noticing his deep breath, she rubbed his back gently. “I do too,” she whispered, and then, slowly, opened the embrace, only to cup his face in her hands and let her thumbs run over his cheeks, even his lips once or twice. “Can I give you a kiss for goodbye? Even just a small one?”

He nodded, his hands now placed on her hips. And indeed, her lips just placed a gentle kiss on his, no tongue running over; he grumbled in disappointment.

“More?” she whispered, her hands still cupping his face.

“More.” He let go of her hips now, only to let his hands run through her hair, and pulled her closer. He heard her moan lowly when he kissed her again, her lips already parted when he shoved his tongue between them. Gods, he wanted to taste everything in that tempting mouth of hers. He wanted to taste every little corner, take in everything she had to offer. Every little piece of it. Because it was the only thing that would really help him through the night; the Sleeping Draught had already lost a lot of its effectiveness, but her touch and her close contact never failed to chase the demons out of his mind. The moan that he could feel vibrate through her when he finally managed to pull her blouse out of her skirt and start to run his hands over the free skin there was exciting. Encouraged by her response to his actions, he guided her hands to his own waist to let her know that he wanted her to do the same with his shirt, desperate for her touch there.

“Draco,” she breathed when she realised what exactly he wanted and broke off the kiss.

“Don't stop, please,” he begged.

She sighed. “I-I need to go home,” she whispered, still out of breath. Her eyes searched him, shimmering golden, a hint of understanding underneath it—she seemed to have noticed the desperate tone in his begging. “You're sure you don't want me to come back later?” she asked, not even attempting to hide her concern.

He took a deep breath. “I-I don't know.” His mind was still focused on her lips; he wanted her to stay here, all night. “Maybe it's better if you don't come back, I can't guarantee for anything if you do.” He placed a kiss on her jaw and sucked the spot gently, causing Helen to inhale deeply.

She hesitated for a moment before pushing him off gently; the deep sigh that followed her move showed that she was struggling with her decision—her eyes shimmered in an even deeper golden green, and she was breathing more raggedly. "You should really try and get some sleep," she replied, "I could bring you something that would help." With a warm smile, she pressed his hand reassuringly that she was still holding.

He shook his head and took another deep breath; everything inside him was longing for her to continue. Instead, he just held her hand tightly in his, and raked through his hair with the other. "I'll be fine. A-And you got work tomorrow." Merlin, those words just sounded like a lie! And they probably were, because all he wanted was for her to stay and drive his demons away. If only he could tell her that...

"Draco," she whispered worriedly, "are you sure you will be fine until tomorrow?"

He forced himself to nod, clenching his jaw. "Yes."

"Then why are you pulling me closer again? And please don't lie to me..."

"I will be fine," he replied evasively, swallowing his disappointment in his own lack of courage. He tried to add a small smile when he saw her frown, even look at him sceptically; she obviously didn't really believe his words, but wasn't about to question him any further.

"Just don't do anything stupid, okay?" she then said, still frowning slightly, and started to let go of his hand.

"I promise," he assured her, but tried to keep her hand in his. He simply didn't want her to leave, yet couldn't find the words to tell her.

She smiled sadly when she noticed how he tried to hold on to her. "Please, let go. I will be back tomorrow, and you need your rest."

With a heavy sigh, he finally did let go of her hand, already feeling lost once more. "See you tomorrow," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Unable to move, Draco just watched her let herself out, smiling sadly at him one last time before closing the door behind her. Gods, he knew already that their kiss and hug weren't enough for tonight, as disturbed as his mind was—and as much as he was still longing for her to come back, bursting through that door. Rubbing his face, he forced himself to turn towards the stairs and get himself ready for bed. And because he was desperate enough, he would try a low-dose combination of the Calming Draught and the Sleeping Draught in the hope that they wouldn't cancel each other out; he hadn't much else to try, as reluctant as he was to order anything in Diagon Alley these days.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know it's been a while since the last update, but I rather post chapters that are properly revised than hurry just to have them posted in a fixed interval. Don't worry, I will keep updating the story, despite the longer gaps between the chapters.
> 
> However, the next update might take a while again, as I'm afraid that I need to find someone else to beta my story... *sigh*


	7. Lazy days

"Draco?” Saturday, two days later, Helen knocked rather loudly on Draco's door. She was absolutely worried about him right now, and wished he would open up. “Please, Draco, open the door!” Growing more worried by the second, she kept knocking. Either he was going to open soon, or she would call the police to check on him. “Draco, please!”

Her knocking grew more and more frantic, in response to her increased worry. What if he had done something stupid?

After what felt like an incredibly long while, she finally heard footsteps on the other side of his door, to her immense relief; moments later, a completely groggy and disoriented looking Draco opened, blinking into the daylight. “Oh God, finally!” Helen exclaimed. “I was worried sick! You didn't answer the door yesterday when I came over! What the hell happened?”

He winced at her loud voice. “Slow down, please. And come inside, it's freezing.”

She walked inside, and straight through to the living room. “Where were you? What happened? You promised you wouldn't do anything stupid, and then you didn't answer the door when I came over–”

“What day is it?” He followed her to the sofa.

“Saturday. Why?”

He groaned. Great. He had overdone the dose completely, and had knocked himself out for more than a day. “I slept all day,” he finally said, rubbing his temples because he still felt groggy. “Basically until now.”

She let out a relieved sigh, shaking her head in slight disbelief at what he just told her, “And I thought something happened to you.” With that, she couldn't hold back her relief any longer, hugging him tightly; she _had_ to make sure he was really standing in front of her. “You really had me worried, you know?”

“Sorry.”

She smiled, and let her hands stroke over his back, knowing that it had a soothing effect on him, “I'm glad nothing more happened. But you still look like a zombie.”

“Right now, I even feel like one,” he replied, yawning.

“That's why you will come over to my place now, and no need to discuss that, resistance is futile. Tom's over at Val's until Monday, and I don't work on weekends.”

“You want me to come over and stay?” He looked at her with wide eyes, and a slowly growing smile in an otherwise still sleepy looking face, Helen found it interesting to watch how it slowly dawned on him.

“Yes–”

“Why?”

"Because I've been worried about you all week. A-And I heard the desperate tone on Thursday, you know? I could hear that all you wanted was for me to stay that evening," she explained with a soft smile, and loosened her grip around his waist, letting her hands wander one last time over his back. She was rather reluctant to let go completely, it felt so comfortable leaning like this into his form—it always did.

He slowly nodded, having already let go of her, "You noticed?" he asked, still sounding incredulous, but with a broad smile plastered on his face.

"Of course I noticed, Draco. We spent enough time together that I sort of know you by now—or at least good enough to notice those kind of things." After one last rub on his back, she finally let go of him, even straightening the pyjama shirt he wore a bit.

"I was desperate that night, yes," he admitted, rubbing his face, and then running his fingers through his hair.

"See? And that's why I'm here... Now grab the things you might need--fresh clothes, clean pyjamas, toiletries, and whatever else you might need. I will wait here; I will not leave without you."

Draco's eyes suddenly had an eager spark, and he was briefly rubbing his hands in anticipation before turning around towards the stairs. "It will take a couple of minutes to find everything," he reckoned, and began to run up the stairs to collect everything.

 

“You look starved,” Helen said, once they had arrived at her house. She went straight to the kitchen, not waiting for him to follow, “A decent breakfast might help.”

“I'm not hungry.” He followed her more slowly after having placed his bag in the hallway. “A decent coffee is good enough.”

“Nonsense,” she had already opened the fridge to rummage through its contents when he came in, “you definitely need to _eat_ something. You've slept a whole day, you need some food.” She pulled out eggs, a couple of sausages, some bacon, a bit of fruit, and some potatoes, “Yeah, that might work in an omelette...”

Somewhat amused about Helen's rather motherly reaction to his current state, Draco sat down at the kitchen table, watching her prepare breakfast for him. He still felt a bit groggy, which was probably an after-effect of the Draughts, but was starting to feel more awake and receptive already. With his head in his hand, he watched her cut everything up for his omelette; it gave him time to think, as much as he was able to in his state, at least.

She had heard and understood his desperate plea on Thursday—but did she even know the effect her close contact really had on him? He knew she was a Muggle—any British wizard or witch would immediately recognise his family's traits and react accordingly—yet, the soothing effect of her touch, and close contact, had something almost magical to it. In that moment, he didn't care whether she was a Muggle or that she was so much older than he was. No, all he cared about in that moment was her caring so deeply about him that she had insisted on bringing him over for a whole weekend. Gods, was that really _him_ thinking that, not caring whether she was a Muggle? He chuckled briefly at that revelation; caught looking at him, she smiled in response to his chuckle before turning back to her coffee machine.

And not long after, Helen served him a plate with a nice omelette and well-fried sausages, as well as a mug of coffee, “Enjoy,” she sat down opposite him, taking a sip from her own coffee.

“You don't need to do this for me–”

“I don't _need_ to, but I want to. Now, please, eat while it's still warm,” she replied with a smile.

Draco was surprised to find that his stomach had indeed been protesting for some food, he just hadn't had the proper appetite. So, after the first surprisingly delicious bite, he started to wolf down the omelette and the sausages, washing it down with the coffee. A freshly filled stomach left him rather content afterwards, and with a much clearer head.

“I can make you more if you want,” she said when he leaned back, the plate empty, “I would've made more if I had known you'd be this hungry...”

“Was just perfect. Thanks, it helped. Being so tired all the time, I forgot I was hungry.”

“That's what I thought.” She got up to put the empty plate in the dishwasher, “I can really make you more if you want. It's no problem, seriously.”

“Maybe later. But some water would be nice.”

“There you are.” Moments later, Helen handed him a big glass of water.

“So, my plan for today is simple... Saturdays are great for lazing around, and that really is all I plan to do with you today. That includes lots of hugs and cuddling–”

“Suits me,” his smile broadened at her proposal; lazing around with her, with her cuddling up to him, most definitely suited him.

“It's up to you if you want more. I don't expect anything, okay? It's your decision today; I'd be just as happy to watch a film upstairs...” She sat down at the table again, amused about his eagerness to continue with what she proposed. “You'll be surprised how comfortable the bed in the guest room is. Tom and I love watching films upstairs when the weather is really bad on Sundays.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Her smile turned into a teasing smirk, “I thought you might like that.”

“Though I'd like to take short shower first. You didn't really give me time at my place for that...”

“No problem. Upstairs, end of corridor, opposite Tom's room. I'll prepare the guest room in the meantime.”

When Draco got upstairs, bag in hand, he did come across Tom's room, his name in coloured letters, pinned on the door. He dared a look inside, and found a surprisingly neat room for a seven-year-old on the other side, with lots of books of almost every sort, a few toys on the shelves, and a bed cover with stars and nebulas on it. The wall was decorated with posters and pictures of various other things that Tom seemed to like, as well as several drawings. Maybe Tom could give him a small tour of his room one day? When he heard Helen finish everything in the kitchen downstairs, he quietly closed the door again, and turned around for the bathroom just on the other side.

 

 

Helen was already upstairs when Draco left the bathroom again, feeling refreshed, and ready for the film. He could hear her rummaging in one of the other rooms, probably the guest room she had mentioned before, and joined her there.

“There you are. You already look much better.”

“You changed clothes,” he remarked, and looked around. The guest room, which was rather small, dominated by the bed, and lined on all four walls with shelves that were filled with books and smaller shelves, most probably the films. The room felt comfortable, he could understand why she and Tom loved to spend rainy Sundays in here.

“I prefer to watch films in my pyjamas, but I wouldn't be caught dead in them outside my house. I'm not a slob,” she replied with a smile, and pulled the bed cover down.

“I think they look good on you...” He came closer. It was definitely one of his favourite looks of her, next to naked, because she seemed so relaxed in them.

“They’re not even the nicest ones I have,” she countered, laughing. “Come here, you little charmer.” Taking his hand, she pulled him into an embrace. “Hmm... blackberry. Now, what film? I think we should watch something light-hearted. I have to warn you though, I'm a sucker for classics, you know? Films with Doris Day, Cary Grant, Katherine Hepburn—and I _love_ Audrey Hepburn.”

“Whatever you choose... As long as I get to do that again.” He let his hands run down her back, even shortly teasingly playing with the seam of her shirt, before opening his arms again.

She smiled, having noticed his teasing fingers on her back. “Then you better get yourself comfortable on the bed while I find a film. Though, I have an idea... I'll show you my favourite film, _Charade_.”

Draco was surprised to find the bed was indeed as comfortable as Helen had said when he climbed in; not needing long to find a position that also left enough space for her to join him, while she turned on the telly, then the black box beneath it, and finally putting on the film.

“The bed is even more comfortable with you in it,” she whispered once she had finally settled herself in front of him, letting him wrap his arms around her.

“You're the most comfortable thing in it,” he replied in a whisper, gently stroking the free spots of skin beneath his hands. Merlin, did Helen know the effect she had on him? Because already holding her like that made him feel better than he had in days! He felt himself relax into her form, taking her in with all his senses—the warmth of her body; the touch of her skin; the scent of her, a hint of summer flowers as always. And the best thing about it? He got two whole days of this! Oh, he was so going to take everything he could out of it. He smiled softly into her hair when he noticed how her fingers brushed over his hand and arm; it was a very soft touch, just as she was a rather soft person—at least with him.

"You okay?" Helen whispered, a bit into the film, turning her head slightly towards him; her fingers were caressing the hand he had slipped under her top to get access to her skin.

“Yes, just enjoying the moment,” he couldn't resist letting his hand slip further upwards underneath her top; he smiled into her neck when he heard her emit a low purr, "and I like the film." Thank the gods that he wasn't entirely foreign to films, having been to a cinema once or twice when he had made his trips through town, during the summer.

She nodded. "It's a good one, isn't it?" She shivered when he let his fingers follow the outlines of her navel, gently brushing over it in circles, "B-But if you feel like sleeping again, just do. I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

"I know," he whispered in response, and pressed a kiss on her shoulder. "You promised not to run, after all." No, he wasn't sleepy at all—he had just been knocked out for more than a day—but he felt pleasantly relaxed and surprisingly comfortable with her in his arms, lazing around had definitely been a good idea!

 

 

Neither of them got up once the film was over, Helen only turned off the telly and the black box, and then turned herself around in his arms, looking at him for a long moment. “You already look much better than you have in days...”

He nodded, “I've had rather disturbing nightmares all week. The kind that makes you fear to fall asleep...”

“Is that the reason why you were so desperate on Thursday?”

He slowly nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Want to tell me about them?" she asked, her voice a whisper. "I-I just want to know what haunts you so much that you're afraid to fall asleep," she added with a sympathetic smile.

"It's hard to speak about it," he replied, trying to keep his voice steady; however, her weakened smile showed that he had been too slow in hiding his pain and she had noticed it flicker over his face. He closed his eyes when he felt her fingers brush over his cheek in what felt like a comforting gesture.

"I understand that. And I'm not going to force you, okay? I mean what kind of person would I be if I forced you to talk about something painful?" She let out small sigh, "I would just like to know one day. I know that talking about things can help."

Eyes still closed, he nodded and, seeking out her warmth, he pulled her closer and began drawing circles and undefined patterns on her back.

"Hmm... don't stop that." She now ran her fingers through his hair, leaving a tingling trail along his scalp.

Hearing her purr again, he opened his eyes, a smirk growing on his lips, "You remember the spot on my back?"

She pulled his shirt up a bit and let her hand slide underneath it to scratch his lower back gently. “That one here?”

“Yes, that one,” he purred now himself. “Don't stop that.”

“You sound like a cat,” she commented on the sounds he let out, from her simply scratching his lower back.

“A _cat_? Seriously?”

She chuckled, “Even those dangerous tigers purr when they are content.”

“Tiger is much better,” he replied with a teasing smirk.

“As long as it's some dangerous animal, you don't mind the comparison,” she remarked, barely holding back her amused laughter.

“Of course not. I'm not some cuddly pet–”

“Yet you love nothing more than to cuddle up with me on a Saturday.”

“You're one cheeky woman!” He laughed. “Hell yes, I love it. It feels great...”

She nodded. “It definitely does–”

“But comparing me to a pet, I think that deserves some punishment.” He already had an idea what kind of _punishment_ she deserved, and gently tilted her head upwards, where a teasing smirk remained on his lips.

She cocked her eyebrow, but couldn't contain a grin. “Oh yes, I deserve it. What do you have in mind?”

“Well, I'll think of something. But for a start, you could kiss me.” Draco pressed his lips on hers in a lazier, playful way, and was surprised at the tenderness with which she responded. Her kissing was like an invitation to explore her mouth, and so he let his tongue run over her mouth, only to gently suck on her bottom lip before he finally entered. Gods, he could go on like this for hours, swirling his tongue around hers whenever he re-entered her mouth to explore it further; her fingers caressing that spot on his lower back only added to the moment. He could feel her smile when a low moan escaped him; which encouraged her to venture down further, playing with the seam of his pyjama bottoms. Yes, he definitely liked this kind of lazing around!

“How was that for a first payment?” she murmured, licking her slightly puffed lips. She was breathing rather heavily when she broke off, after what felt like half an eternity.

“Perfect.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “Your teasing fingers were a nice additional touch,” he added, his voice a breathless purr,” though they could still improve.”

“I'll consider that with my next payment.” She scratched his lower back again, making him moan in surprise.

“Again.”

“Of course.” She scratched him again, adding a bit more pressure this time.

In response, he pulled her even closer, until her hips were pressing against his.

“Don't stop,” he demanded with a wanton growl. “Don't.” Gods, he loved what she was doing! It was exactly the right pressure, and it let him grow more excited...

“Ah yes, I see.” Her lips curled into a warm, seductive smile. “My little tiger likes being scratched there.”

“Very much so.”

“Want me to scratch you somewhere else?” she asked, wrapping her leg around his waist and rocking her hips gently, while she let her hand teasingly slip underneath his pyjama bottoms, discovering that he wasn't wearing anything else, causing her to smile broadly at the prospect.

“Not yet,” he whispered lazily, noticing her wide, anticipating smile, as well as her hand inside his pyjama bottoms, squeezing his arse. “But there's something else I'd like to continue...” Keeping his arms around her, he turned himself on his back, pulling her on top of him, and letting his hands wander up her back, until he reached her head, where he let them run through her hair. “That wonderful mouth of yours needs a bit more exploring. I don't think I've tasted it all yet...”

 

 

"Right there! Oh God, yes!" Helen gasped a while later. She was now lying on her back, her top pulled up to reveal her soft round breasts, to which Draco was now focusing his attention.

The longer they had been kissing that afternoon, the more he had wanted to explore her body further and in a more relaxed way than on their previous encounters that both had been a more frantic experience—frantic for relief. But this time, it was about pleasure. Continuing to lick and suck those hardened nipples until they were sensitive to a simple flick of his tongue, he let his hand slip between her knickers, delving between her folds. "Gorgeous," he murmured when he noticed how wet she was, and brushed over her clit.

Helen moaned deeply in response, trying not to rock her hips too much. "More," she demanded rather breathless, pulling him up. "More," she repeated before kissing him, claiming his lips rather hungrily.

He added another finger between her folds, his thumb toying with her clit, stroking it with varied intensity. "Like this?"

She started pushing her hips towards his hand in the hope of finding more friction. "Fuck yes! More!"

With a smirk at her needy exclamation, he started kissing along her jaw, until he found that weak spot where her jaw joined her throat; meanwhile he let his fingers glide in deeper, fingering her entrance. He just loved how she bucked her hips in response, urging him to go even deeper. Gods, she was absolutely gorgeous—they way she felt beneath his fingers, the way she moaned, and especially the way she just let herself fall into his touch, trusting him completely. "Pull them down a bit," he demanded, breathing into her ear.

"Hmm..."

Draco realised that Helen was too far gone to properly respond to his words, so he pulled his hand out, only to pull her bottoms and knickers down himself—wanting more space for his hand to move.

"Why-Why did you stop?" she asked, pouting in protest.

"Help me pull these down, and I can continue." Draco chuckled when she eagerly pulled her bottoms and knickers down, spreading her legs. Oh yes, she was absolutely gorgeous, the way she lay there, looking at him with those golden shimmering green eyes, even shivering slightly in anticipation for him to continue. It wasn't the first time he saw her naked like this, and yet he again loved how she just trimmed her curls, not like the girls he had the chance to get intimate with back then. For a moment, he let his hand just run over her thigh, coming close to her folds, but not touching them.

"Don't tease!" she let out, sounding rather frustrated at his strokes, and pulled his face closer to claim his lips for another hungry kiss. "Yes," she breathed into the kiss when he finally let his fingers delve in again. "God, that's so good!"

Encouraged by her moans and her rocking hips, he intensified the strokes of his thumb over her clit, while he let his fingers pump into her entrance; she was rocking her hips frantically within seconds. He loved the expression on her face as she let herself get lost to his attentions; and he absolutely loved all those little moans and gasps he could elicit from her by just rubbing her like this, it was one of the best sounds he had ever heard—mainly because he was the reason for it.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!"

Draco increased the pressure of his strokes, and felt her tense up in response, and then just watched her reach her climax.

"OH GOD!" She let out a deep moan, and rocked her hips violently several times before remaining still, apparently riding out her high.

"Hey," Draco whispered, smiling broadly, when she opened her eyes again.

"That was wonderful," she replied, her cheeks still flushed, and smiling rather contentedly. After a deep breath, she started pulling her top down again.

He placed a kiss on her temple. "I loved watching you come..."

"Oh God, really?" She giggled in embarrassment, and then tried to pull up her knickers and her bottoms. "But-But I probably make a funny face!"

He shook his head, smiling. "You just concentrated on what I was doing–"

"And it was great!" She finally managed to pull the bottoms back up. Still smiling contentedly, she kissed him gently on the lips. "Thanks," she breathed, sitting up to climb out. "But I think I'll go have a pee now, though. What about something to eat afterwards?" Humming quietly, she pushed herself on her rather wobbly legs to walk out.

Draco watched her walk out, feeling just as content as she was. Yes, compared to the past few days, he felt absolutely great; he never knew that such a lazily spent afternoon could turn into one of the best he had ever had since coming here! Absolutely no pressure, no expectations—just cuddling and exploring each other, and with very little talking. Merlin, he loved the laziness of it all, and especially that she had given him the decision how far he wanted to go. Yes, within reason, it was his decision what he wanted to do, and he liked that feeling. Because, for the first time in his life, he was _in control_ of something, instead of being controlled—so yes, he definitely liked that aspect.

He smiled when he remembered that she had repeatedly let her hand slip inside his pyjama bottoms to stroke over his cock, until he stopped her each time. Her hand around it had felt excitingly good, but he just hadn't been in the mood for it in those moments. But—to his delight—she hadn't stopped him when he had finally let his hand slip under her knickers for the first time, and even encouraged him to go on; that was how he had ended up pleasuring her into an orgasm.

“Dreaming?” Helen came back, watching him amused from the door frame.

“You're back. Didn't hear you...”

“Well, if you're tired, you can just sleep, you know. But if you're up to it, you can join me in the kitchen. I'm going to cook us both something,” she replied, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

“I was only thinking about your funny face, you know?” he replied, and finally joined her at door. “But now, I prefer some food.”

 

 

“Ah, I still have some chops left, and some... Rice? Veggies? What would you prefer?” Helen was standing in front of the fridge, going through its contents. “Or some roast potatoes?”

“Whatever you want,” he replied, smirking; he was leaning against the counter, watching her fumbling around.

“Very helpful answer, my dear,” she retorted playfully. “I guess I just put some veggies and the potatoes in the oven then, and fry the chops, how about that?”

“Sounds good to me. And some coffee to go with it?”

She looked up. “No coffee for you if you want some decent sleep later. A glass of wine is better. One glass only, though.”

“As long as I can lick it from your lips afterwards...”

“You still haven't had enough?” she asked, in mock surprise, pulling the vegetables and the chops from the fridge.

“Not today.”

She smirked teasingly. “Good, because I still plan to return the favour later,” she said, raising a mocking eyebrow, while shortly washing the vegetables, and roughly chopping them up for the oven. She stood next to Draco, who hadn't moved from his spot at the counter. “Maybe I even lick some of the wine from other places...”

“You would?”

“Oh, yes. I fully intend to find out from how many spots on your body I can lick the wine from...” She was now seasoning the vegetables and the potatoes in the roast pan, ready to put them in the pre-heated oven.

“Oh, I'm inclined to let you find those spots...”

She smirked. “But for now, you need to move a bit so that I can put them in.” She pointed at the oven behind his legs.

“Give me a kiss, then I'll move.”

“Move first, then I'll reward you before I need to fry the chops.”

With the prospect of a reward, Draco finally moved aside, so that Helen could put the roast pan in. “So, what's the reward then?” he asked more than eagerly when she closed the oven again.

"Sit down, then I'll show you." She laughed, amused when she saw his eagerness to sit down, and even more so when she saw the anticipation in his face. "The licking part will be dessert tonight," she added, and then climbed on his lap, rocking her hips ever so slightly when settling down, and got an almost immediate reaction from him. "I haven't even started yet," she whispered teasingly.

"I know," he replied, cocking his eyebrow. Oh yes, he could feel her folds press against his cock, and her slight rocking had caused a moan to escape from him, as he felt his cock harden in response. Wanting more now, he framed her face just to pull her in for the promised kiss. Her lips still felt slightly puffed from their previous session, but that made it even better; it was still one of their more lazy kisses, but he noticed that she was a bit more demanding, more passionate. Her raking fingers through his hair left a tingling trail on his scalp, but it was her hips grinding with their ever increasing pressure that made him feel light-headed, and excited. Gods, her sitting in his lap like this reminded him of their first night together, on her sofa. Encouraged by her little moans, he started to pull up her shirt top, wanting access to her skin and her breasts which were brushing over his chest so teasingly.

“Oh yes,” she breathed when he reached them. “God, don't stop...” In response, she lifted her hips a bit and started to fumble his pyjama bottoms down as well as she could. “Oh yes,” she repeated when she finally managed to get her hand on his cock, grabbing the hardened member tightly.

Draco jerked involuntarily when he felt her hand around it. Fuck, that felt good!

She started to rub him, only gently at first, smiling when she felt him jerk again at the sensation. “I remember how it felt the first two times,” she whispered when she broke the kiss for some air, feeling completely light-headed; she continued placing kisses along his jaw. “I-I want to sit on it. Want to feel it inside me...”

He closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating on her fingers stroking his cock; they were trying to find _that_ spot that made him lose all resistance. She increased the pressure, and he couldn't stop himself from moaning deeply, about to let go of any control he ever had today. “Helen,” he did manage to rasp. “S-Stop now or I'm gone... Oh Gods!” He inhaled sharply when she moved her hips upwards and brushed his cock. “H-Helen, stop, please.”

With a sigh, she nodded, and then stopped. “Sorry, didn't mean to get carried away,” she said, her cheeks flushed, and her lips curled into an embarrassed smile.

“It's okay.” He placed a kiss on her forehead, and took a deep breath to somewhat calm down. “Just not here...” However, he was still feeling disappointed when she let go of his cock, it had felt so great. “I liked the reward very much, though.”

“I tried my best,” she replied, smiling softly now, pulling his pyjama bottoms up.

“Let me,” he took her hands in his, as his still hardened cock made it impossible to pull the bottoms all the way up. “You should probably check the vegetables anyway.”

“Sorry again.” She carefully climbed off, straightening her clothes a bit before checking the oven, where the vegetables were sizzling; a delicious smell filled the kitchen when she opened the oven door to look inside. She then turned off the oven, as the vegetables were ready and she still needed to fry the chops.

Meanwhile, Draco mused about how easily she had just brought him to the brink, especially her words that she wanted to feel him inside her had been dangerous. Merlin, when she had uttered those words he had longed for nothing more than do exactly that—get buried inside her. From his vantage point at the kitchen table, he could see her backside, and imagined how he would grab those firm butt cheeks to keep her down when she finally did sit on him. Just not now. Later.

 

Late Sunday morning, Draco was the first to wake up; he noticed that they were lying in almost the same position they had fallen asleep in the night before—Helen nicely nestled up to him, his arms around her. It felt comfortable to wake up like this; and he smiled when he noticed that her hair was still all messed up from last night. It kind of made her look like an angel. An angel that was lying fast asleep in his arms, according to her deep and regular breaths. He carefully shifted the arm on which her head was resting, so that he could let his fingers run through that mess of hair; he loved how soft it felt. She twitched slightly at the touch, but didn't wake up, making him smile. He breathed in deeply. Gods, he felt surprisingly well rested, despite not having slept that much actually; his mental exhaustion was gone, and he was in a really good mood, all thanks to Helen who had insisted on taking care of him. Why she had that effect on him, he didn't know, but he was glad that it helped, and he was very grateful for that. Really grateful.

Draco grinned when he remembered the night before. Dinner had been eaten rather fast, just so they could go back upstairs and continue what he had started previously. This time, they had ended up in her bedroom, and had taken up the same lazy tenderness they had shared all afternoon. He had never before experienced sex in such a relaxed way, with lots of lazy kisses that turned into more passionate ones the longer they went on, and with lots of touches that grew more teasing and arousing, until she had finally let herself sink down once more on his cock; for a moment, they both stayed still at the feeling of renewed connection, and at last, he did see stars.

Yes, it had been a very good night, spent cuddling up during another film of her choosing and kissing a bit more. Draco was still astonished that teasing and pleasuring someone else could be so much fun... After all, his previous experiences—mostly back at Hogwarts—had been rather limited due to other things getting in the way; and mostly about finding his own pleasure, his own relief, the few times he actually had got the chance. But with Helen the night before, it had been mostly about hers. He had wanted to hear her little moans and all those little sounds she made, had wanted to see her get lost in the feeling.

Draco sighed contentedly, still watching Helen in his arms; she seemed to smile now, as if she was sensing his thoughts somehow. Yes, that late Sunday morning—with her in his arms—he really felt at peace, for the first time in a long while. At peace.

“Hmm...” Helen moved her arms, letting them come to rest on his stomach, nestling up even closer to him in the process.

"Shh... Just sleep." He planted a small kiss on her forehead. She had managed to pull him in, just by accepting the way he was, and caring for him—after the last few weeks, he was grateful for her presence. Though he still didn't quite understand why she would do all that, surely someone existed who was better than him—someone in her age, who could take care of her, not someone she would need to take care of, like him; she already had her son to look after.

He gently pushed an obstinate strand of hair out of her face, and saw her smile at the touch. No, for everything he had done in his past, he probably didn't deserve someone like her, but then Granger might be right too, in saying that Helen was exactly what he needed to get back on his feet. He remembered how Granger had almost spilled her tea when he had told her about Helen, her face had been priceless. But the most amazing thing was—and which surprised him probably even more than Granger—that he ended up bonding so deeply with a Muggle, and no longer caring about it at all. Not at all. He grinned for a moment when he realised that half the wizarding community would probably think that he had gone bat-shit crazy for dating a Muggle, and one even about ten years his senior. His parents would probably disinherit him, if not disown him completely, for _shaming_ the family name, should they ever know about it.

He sighed again, concentrating his focus on the touch of her hair for a moment, as he didn't want to think about his parents right now. Helen didn't need to know about them yet, nor his world, maybe never—it might just put a strain on whatever they now had.

Helen now started to move a bit more, slowly waking up. “Hey,” she croaked, her eyes still half closed.

“Good morning,” Draco replied, and placed another small kiss on her forehead.

“How long have you been awake?” she asked, smiling at the gesture, and let her fingers gently run over his stomach.

“A while, but I didn't want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

With a groan of embarrassment, she buried her face in his shoulder. “I'm sorry; I guess I was a bit exhausted too after yesterday evening...”

“No need to feel embarrassed about,” he replied warmly. “It was a wonderful ending to a wonderful day. And I'm surprised about how many spots you could lick the wine from...”

“God,” she groaned again. “But my favourite spot was your navel, you couldn't stop laughing–”

“You were tickling me!” He chuckled. “But thanks for insisting on bringing me over.”

Smiling softly, she looked up. “I had to, you looked so bad on Thursday, and then you didn't answer Friday when I came over after the museum. I was really worried about you, you know?”

“I'm sorry about that. I tried something so that I could get some sleep, and probably overdid it a bit.”

She let her fingers follow the faint outlines of his stomach muscles. “I'm just glad I didn't have to call the police to check on you...”

“You would have?” Draco was surprised to hear that she worried _that_ much about him; but then, he probably gave her all the reasons to be worried. He could even see a remnant of that concern in her eyes, while her fingers left a tingling trail on his stomach.

She nodded. “Like I said, I was worried about you–”

“Hey, I promised I wouldn't do anything stupid.”

She sighed, sounding surprisingly sad in doing so. “Well, in a way you did,” she then replied. “I mean you tried something, and then weren't careful enough. You could've killed yourself without wanting to. But I'm really glad you didn't...”

With his free hand, he grabbed hers that was still gently running over his stomach. “It's nice to know that at least someone would miss me,” he whispered. “It really is.”

She turned her head, so that her cheek came to rest on his shoulder, and watched their hands. “But doesn't your mother miss you too? I know you told me that you were hiding from them, but still... I know I would miss Tom desperately if he would ever leave and then not call me when he's grown-up, you know?” she then said, pensively.

“I guess she does probably miss me somewhat,” he replied quietly. He was sure that his mother missed him in her own way, despite all the arguments he had had with his parents before he had moved out. Though the day he had collected his belongings with the help of Granger had been a rather strange one—his father hadn't acknowledged his move at all, while his mother silently watched them, disappointment visible in her eyes while the rest of her face had a stony expression all through it. She hadn't even said something when he was about to leave the Manor for good with everything he wanted to take with him—no, she just watched. However, despite everything between him and his parents, he still thought about them, even had short moments when he did miss them—they were still his family after all. “It's just that I need the distance right now,” he finally continued. “It's too complicated to explain, and there's a lot of responsibilities involved as well, and I don't know if I can take them all on right now.” He smiled faintly, and let his thumb run over the back of her hand. “I might contact her again someday...”

“Promise?”

He winced. “I would rather not make a promise, you know? If I'm going to contact her again, then only on my terms, and because it was my decision to do so. I won't do it just because you asked me to. No chance of debate.”

"I won't," she replied affirmingly, pressing his hand gently. "After all, I promised that I won't force you to do something you're not comfortable with..."

He was somewhat relieved that she didn't press for further details about his relationship with his parents; he wouldn't even know where to start explaining because there was so much connected to it. "Thanks," he said, and placed a small kiss on her head for her patience with him.

"I tend to keep my promises, you know?" she whispered, keeping her affirming tone. "Some things aren't easy to talk about... Hmm, that's nice." She let out a low purr when he started to brush through her hair with his other hand, massaging her head gently in the process. "You know, I've been thinking a bit last night, when you were already asleep... about us, I mean," she continued, her voice now turning into a content purr. "I'm pretty sure you already realised that this is way more than just a close friendship between neighbours. We're in rather deep..."

He nodded. "I guess we are. I figure we were probably always a bit more than just friends–"

"You did?"

"Yes." He nodded again. Despite not having had that many friends—or rather none at all—he was sure that friends wouldn't be as intimate as they became over the last six or seven weeks, and especially not after the day before. "You know the first time you ever touched me? It confused the hell out of me..."

Hearing that, she tilted her head to look up at him, her eyebrows raised and her mouth gaping. "Why? Did I do something wrong?" she then stammered, clearly surprised. "I-I just thought then that–"

"No, no," he interrupted her, smiling at her reaction. "It was nice, just confusing. I think that's when it started for me. I’ve just never been one of those touchy-feely people–"

“Says the one who can't get enough of me,” she interjected, teasingly.

“With you it's different. I haven't really had any close contact in a while, especially not like this, and I still don't like to touch other people too much. Just you.”

She smiled broadly now, lighting her whole face up, it was something Draco always immensely liked about her smile, especially when her eyes sparkled like they did now. “So, you're basically saying that I'm the only person to actually get _that_ close to you? I'm the one you let in?”

He nodded, and could feel a smile curl his lips into a smile in response to hers. “Yes, probably.”

“Thanks, that means a lot.” She shifted her position upwards, and then placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “I know it's difficult enough sometimes to open up to someone...”

“With you, it's easy enough. You don't judge,” he whispered, gently pulling a strand out of her face. He loved the way she looked at him right now, with that warmth in her deep green eyes. Yes, it was a new feeling that someone looked at him like that, but he loved it even more so.

She smiled at the gesture. “You know, people are who they are. Since I can't change them, I just accept them the way they are... Even you with your mysterious past.” She placed another kiss on his lips. “It works most of the time, but some people still manage to piss me off–”

“Like your mother?”

“Yes, she's the worst of them all.”

“She's quite something, for sure.” But nothing compared to the rest of his family, he thought. To distract himself from further thoughts about his fanatical—and thankfully, mostly dead— relatives, he commenced to brush through her hair which always felt so soft under his fingers.

“Hmm...” Helen closed her eyes again for a moment, focusing on his hand in her hair. “I love when you do that.” She placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“I love doing it.” He smiled, softly.

“I noticed.” She studied him for a moment, slightly furrowing her brows in the process, before she continued. “So,” she said, sounding a bit nervous, “what does that make us now? I guess we're somewhere down the road between friendship and relationship.”

“Do you want it to be something?” He let his hands brush over her back.

“I-I don't know,” she replied earnestly. “I really like being with you, and I care a lot about you, but...” She sighed. “Do you? I mean do you want it to be something?”

“I don't know either, honestly. It really is confusing–”

“Hell, it is. I never thought I would ever have such a conversation again, you know? Morning talk with a man in bed. I think I just got used to be alone for the rest of my life, caring for Tom. Then you had to show up...” She smiled shyly, her cheeks blushing.

“I never even had such a conversation,” he admitted. Gods, he was sure that his cheeks were blushing just as much as hers, in addition to his embarrassed grin.

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “Never got the chance, with everything that happened back then.”

“Oh Jesus.” She turned bright red, and an apprehensive smile slowly growing on her lips. “You mean I was... I'd be your first?”

“First time? No. Girlfriend? Yes.”

She groaned. “God, that just sounds weird. _Girlfriend_...”

“It does, really.”

“I just feel too old for that word.”

“You're most definitely anything but old.”

"Perfect answer, my dear." And with a more teasing grin, she placed another kiss on his lips. "So, how about we just try it and figure things out along the way? I mean I really _enjoy_ being with you, and I definitely want to keep that going, you know?"

"What about–?"

"The age gap? You really care about that?" she asked, sounding surprisingly insecure about it. "I mean I-I don't care ab–"

"I don't," he stopped her before she could start babbling. "I just wanted to be sure," he added, and kissed her back gently.

"Other people might look... Hmm..." She purred, and let him claim her lips for first proper morning kiss.

"Let them look. I'm used to getting stared at." He leisurely let his tongue roam through her mouth, gently sucking her bottom lip and swirling around her tongue; he liked that she let him discover her once more, and that he was in control.

"Hmm... I like that," she murmured, breathily, once she had finally broken off again for air. "I love the way you kiss, I definitely want to keep _that_."

He nodded, smiling warmly at that, and gazed at her for a moment, taking her in the way she was half lying on him, with those reddened lips she kept licking and that slight golden shimmer in her eyes. "Do we tell Tom?" he then asked, and breathed in deeply.

“I don't know. I mean if we tell him, we would only get his hopes up too high. I know that he would really like to see us together for whatever reason. But then, I don't like keeping secrets from him either, at least not things that concern him, as well.”

He nodded. “Then maybe we should tell him when we are completely sure about the whole thing.” Again, he started to brush through her hair, framing her head gently. “I'm not sure I can give you everything you need though, but I'm willing to try it, at least.”

She smiled, nodding slowly; as her hands started to stroke over the free skin on his sides. “I'm not even sure what I want at the moment,” she then replied thoughtfully. “So, whatever you're willing to give me is good enough. I won't be perfect either, but I'll try and give my best.”

“Good enough for me. Remember? I'm the one with zero relationship experience...”

“True. I could so spoil you.” She smirked. “But if we don't tell Tom, things are about to get rather complicated. You want to sneak in when he's in bed? And what about the weekends?”

“Shh...” He kissed her on her lips to stop her babbling any further. “It's not as if he hasn't already his own ideas about us, like you said. He does know that I like you that way, and he did tell me at least once that you like me that way too.”

She smiled. “Then maybe better tell him the truth? God, it's so confusing right now.” She groaned in frustration, and then looked at him again; it was clear she was trying to figure out what to do. “Okay, maybe that's a compromise... Let's keep it secret until Christmas at least. This should give us enough time to figure it out. Though I really don't like lying to Tom...”

“Lies can sometimes save lives,” he replied, and started kissing her properly once more, he shoved his tongue between her lips, wanting to taste every little corner in her mouth again, and just get lost in the excitement the touch of her lips on his sparked in him.

"How about we go out later for some brunch?" she murmured into the kiss, and then pulled back for air. "I know the perfect little place for it," she added, now brushing kisses along his jaw. "Like a proper first date, you know?" She arrived at the spot where his jaw joined his neck, and attended to it with deeper kisses, even sucking on it.

"Later?" he uttered, a low moan escaping his lips. Gods, she knew exactly that he loved that spot, that he would agree to a lot of things so that she wouldn't stop attending to it!

She smirked, and sucked at the spot, causing him to moan once more. "Later. And if we're lucky we might even get that small, slightly hidden table in the back."

Hidden table in the back sounded like a promise, but right now he started to feel rather light-headed, arousal stirring inside him. "They don't do home deliveries?" he breathed, and let his hands slip under her pyjama top, following the outlines of her spine.

Helen giggled into his neck. "I'm afraid not, my little lazy tiger..." In response to his roaming hands on her back, she pulled her leg across his, shifting her position in the process. "It's a nice little spot, and we really haven't been on a date yet, you know?"

Merlin, she knew very well he couldn't say no! "Okay," he then grumbled, "a brunch date it is." And now wanting more, he started kissing her again, more demanding this time, and then pulled her on top, cupping her arse. Despite his grumbling, he was revelling in the fact that she was now his—so yes, he definitely wanted more now.

"Hmm," she moaned in the kiss, when he let his hands slip under her pyjama bottoms, squeezing her bottom cheeks repeatedly, teasing her. "That feels good," she husked, and carefully started to rock her hips into his.

“Don't stop,” he moaned in response, and started to pull her pyjama top up, longing for more of her skin. Merlin, she was putting the absolutely right pressure on his groin right now, and he could feel his cock harden in response. Gods, he needed her out of her clothes, and soon! Not bothering much about her top any longer, he just pulled it off her. “Get those off, please,” he then begged, pulling at her pyjama bottoms.

“Why?” she asked teasingly, rocking her hips rather roughly.

“T-That's why,” he replied, letting out a hungry moan, pulling her down for a kiss. And he moaned again into the kiss when he noticed that she had started to pull down his bottoms. “Fuck yes,” he grunted in response to her wrapping her fingers around his cock. “Please, get them off now.” Feeling desperate now from her tantalising strokes, he pulled rather roughly on her bottoms, not caring anymore whether he was tearing them apart. He just wanted her, and he wanted her now.

“Then let's switch positions, you on top this time,” she murmured, having clearly noticed how roughly he tried to get her out of the clothes she was still wearing. She stroked the base of his cock once more, and grinned at his immediate reaction of jerking involuntarily, before finally let herself roll off, landing on her back.

Draco immediately got up, and started to pull down the bottoms that he found so offensively obstructing his way. Fuck yes, she was still as gorgeous as he remembered from the night before. He started to plant kisses everywhere on her upper body, sucking when he reached one of her sweet spots, while his hands stroked her thighs, and repeatedly brushed over her lower lips.

“God, stop teasing me,” she begged finally. “Oh, fuck yes!” she let out in surprise when he let his fingers delve in; she arched involuntarily when he rubbed her clit. Now repeatedly moaning hungrily, she pulled his waist closer with her legs, until she could feel his cock brush her folds. “Just take me.”

Amused with her plea, Draco positioned himself properly, her legs folded around his waist, and then came up to her, to watch her as he buried himself inside her inch by inch. Like every time, that moment felt fantastic, but even more so now that they decided to try it as a couple—that made it even better...

“Yes,” she grunted when he was finally fully sheathed. “You have no idea how good that feels...” And with that, she started rocking her hips. “Hmm...”

“Perfect is the word you're looking for,” he whispered, and slowly started thrusting. Yes, _perfect_ was the word.


	8. Libraries and Christmas plays

_Granger,_

_I know that my next update is not yet due for at least a couple of days, but some things have changed since my last owl that you wished to be kept up to date about. After all, you insisted on it..._

_Anyway, first of all, I've had another load of nightmares, thanks to that very detailed article in the Prophet recently, still turns my stomach thinking about it... However, the Draught has more or less lost its effects, and I must have looked exceptionally bad all week. That's why Helen insisted on me going to her place over the weekend, so that she could take care of me (!!). I have no idea why it works, even less so how, but Helen's presence keeps the nightmares away. To make it short, and not going into any details, it was a great weekend!_

_But the main thing is, and I think you better sit down for that, remembering your last reaction: Helen and I have decided to try that couple thing. Still sounds bloody strange... Right now, I don't care that she's about ten years older, and I don't care if she's a Muggle. She cares about me, and that's all I want right now. (I care about her as well, don't get me wrong here!)_

_The boy doesn't know yet, we're still trying to figure it all out, and we don't want to get his hopes up too high just yet._

 

_I hope you didn't spill any more tea reading that..._

_Draco Malfoy_

 

Monday evening couldn't come fast enough for Draco—the weekend was over too fast for his liking. Because when Monday morning arrived, Helen had to go back to work, and hence threw him out of bed as well, urging him to go back to his place, so that they wouldn't risk anything just yet. And that meant waiting— for Tom to come back from school after his stay at his friend's place, and for Helen to pick her son up. Unfortunately, Tom had picked up a cold over the weekend, and his mood was accordingly grumpy as well. So, Helen wanted to take care of her son first, and make sure he was fast asleep in bed before Draco could come over. No, Draco definitely wasn't the most patient person, and two hours felt unbelievably long; but he was willing to wait the time if it meant that he had her full attention afterwards.

“God, finally!” Helen exclaimed with an anticipating smile when she flung the door open after Draco's quiet, but rather impatient knock. “What took you so long?”

“You said two hours, and I wanted to be on the safe side,” Draco replied, amused by her reaction.

“It's okay. Come in.” She stepped aside to let him in, still showing that bright smile that lit up her whole face, “Tom almost fell asleep while eating his pizza. He's been in bed for almost an hour now.”

Nodding, Draco walked through to the living room, towards the sofa. “Your day was as boring as you said this morning?”

She followed him, rather impatient for close contact and a proper kiss. “Well, depends on whether you want to be bored to death with details, but it looks like we landed a new client, thanks to me.” In front of the sofa, she was finally close enough for a full embrace.

“How come?” He cocked an eyebrow, but smiled at her eagerness to continue the weekend, however briefly; enjoying the prickling sensation of her contact, he let his hands run up and down her back, repeatedly raking through her half-opened hair.

“Oh, he found me, and I quote, _'a charming woman'._ I think he would have loved to invite me for dinner and everything,” she explained, smirking, and letting out a low purr, in response to his raking fingers. “I have to admit that I was a wee bit flattered, but I had to decline the offer. I prefer to keep work and private life apart, and I already have you, after all...”

“Was he good-looking?” he asked, teasingly, starting to open the rest of her hair.

“Missed that all day long. Hmm...” She closed her eyes for a moment, visibly enjoying his fingers gently brushing through her hair, and then took a deep breath. “Well, he wasn't that bad looking, but absolutely not my type, you know?”

“Really?”

“Really.” Her smirk grew wider, and she licked her lips. “My type is tall, blond, rather skinny, and above all, massaging my head into oblivion right now!”

“I like it when it's a bit messed up.” Carefully, he tilted her head upwards. “But they are not the best part of that fine head of yours.”

“No?” she replied, raising her eyebrow.

He chuckled at her response, and shook his head. “No, these are way better. Addictive even.” And with that, he leaned down to claim her lips in a first gentle kiss. Yes, after that weekend, her kisses had become an addiction for him, something that needed to be tasted as often as he could. This time, she still had remnants of her lip gloss on, reminding him of berries while he got lost in the way she was kissing him back—playful, but increasingly more demanding. He let out a low moan when he felt her hands roam over his chest and stomach, always stopping short of his groin. “You're a bloody tease,” he breathed, huskily.

She chuckled. “Don't tell me you don't like it.”

He leaned closer with a teasing smirk. “Keep teasing me, and I might _punish_ you for that,” he whispered into her ear, then scraped her lobe; she shivered in response to his words. Carefully, he pulled her towards the sofa while continuing to attend to her ear, and neck. To his delight, she had started to fumble his shirt buttons open, the fingers brushing over his skin left an electrifying trail everywhere they touched. At the sofa, he gently pushed her down, and was surprised when she pulled him down with her. “Sorry,” he gasped, having landed straight on top of her, his face half-buried between her breasts.

“As if you were,” she replied, giggling, and helped him shift upwards. “You would like nothing more than to bury your face between them... That's why I got a surprise for you.” With a teasing spark in her eyes, she started to unbutton her blouse, tantalisingly slow.

“I remember you putting a bra on this morning,” he remarked in surprise when she was finished, taking in her now naked form. After having spent the weekend in a more or less naked state, this was definitely still his favourite view of her.

“Well, since you wanted to be on the safe side...” She looked at him with a playfully innocent expression, but was betrayed by her teasing tongue that flicked over her lips in anticipation; meanwhile, she continued with his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers.

“Oh no,” he husked, stopping her hands from going further, albeit with a teasing smile. “They stay here,” he added, and pressed her hands on the sofa.

"Ooh, I see. Puni-"

"Shh," he stopped her, with a teasing smile, before claiming her lips for a deeper kiss; he didn't even bother with their usual game of begging for entrance—no, he wanted it all, and now. And she wasn't holding back either, which started to excite him. "Your hands," he whispered between kisses when he noticed that she had continued to pull his shirt out.

"You're not fair," she protested with a chuckle, but didn't stop. "Yours should be somewhere else too, you're neglecting something."

Draco pulled back from the kiss, though he remained only inches away. "Oh, is that so?" And with a smirk, he started brushing kisses along her jaw, making his way tantalisingly slowly down her throat.

"Hm-hm... W-Who's the _bloody_ _tease_ now?" She let out a low moan when he reached the base of her breasts, leaving kisses everywhere but the nipples.

That made Draco chuckle once more. After placing one last brushed kiss between her breasts, he came back up. “I haven't even started,” he replied, “but right now, I prefer to continue this.” He pressed his lips on hers. “I told you, they are addictive...” And with that, he started kissing her deeply once more, though this time wanting to take complete possession of her mouth, and her body. He purred when he felt her hands making a mess of his hair, leaving a tingling trail wherever she brushed her fingers over his scalp.

Just as lost in the kiss, Helen wrapped her legs around his waist, and pulled him closer. “Those trousers need to come off,” she breathed heavily between kisses.

“No,” he husked in response, shifting his position so as not to fall on her.

“Take them off...” She pulled away from the kiss, and studied him for a moment, licking her lips where his just had been. “You just want to make out tonight? Not the whole thing?”

"I never said that," he replied, sitting up. The tint of disappointment in her voice unsettled him a bit. What had just happened? "I-I," he started, furrowing his brows; but then he stopped, because he didn't actually know what he was supposed to say. After a few more rather insecure seconds, he finally leaned closer until his forehead was touching hers. He was glad that she didn't look too upset with him, but rather, she was searching him for a simple explanation. "I... I just liked the slow pace of the weekend. No hurry whatsoever, that's all..."

Hearing that, Helen's questioning expression turned into that bright smile that he so adored. "I liked it too," she whispered, letting her thumbs run over his cheeks. "I'm sorry. I was looking forward to this moment all day long, because I missed you... Missed your touch, and your kisses, you know?" Her smile turned into a small teasing smirk. "Because you're right, they really are addictive..."

He nodded, letting out a small sigh of relief. “They are.” He brushed his lips on hers. Those so wonderfully soft lips that could be so hungry sometimes, and then again be so comforting.

“Let's go upstairs,” she whispered, breathing raggedly, when she reluctantly broke off for some air. “More comfortable...”

Breathing just as heavily, Draco smirked broadly. And then—to Helen's surprise—he scooped her off the sofa and on his shoulders. He swayed for a moment before catching his balance again, causing Helen to gasp loudly. Thank the gods that she had a rather small frame, or he wouldn't have been able to pull that stunt—after all, he had lost some weight and with it a lot of his physical strength due to the mental stress and not being able to play Quidditch any longer. With a smirk that she couldn't see, he squeezed her arse before making his way upstairs.

“Draco!” she yelped, but couldn't hold back a laugh, draped like this over his shoulder. “You cheeky bastard...”

 

“No, please don't move your arms, it's okay,” Helen protested when he wanted to unwrap his arms from around her, to minimise the overstimulation in her afterglow. “Just hold me for a moment. I don't want to move just yet.” She was lying on top of him—in what had started to become their usual position—and smiled when she felt him press a gentle kiss on the top of her head, while one of his hands brushed through her hair; she adored the tenderness in that touch; it even made her purr contentedly. Yes, she felt content in this moment, revelling in the fact that they had managed to continue the intimate laziness of the weekend during their most recent round of making out. “I didn't even ask how your day was,” she finally continued after a few minutes with a soft smile, propping up her head so that she could look at him. “Did you do anything interesting?”

“Not really. Just went into town, answered a few letters, and read a bit.”

She nodded. “You've got a lot of books...” His fingers trailing down her spine made her shiver, and she let out a low hum. “What did you read then?”

He smirked, and let his fingers trail further down on her back. “There's this small book store, and the assistant said I should try Tolkien.”

“The first 300 pages are a bit of a drag, but I'm sure you'll love it,” she replied, with an enthusiastic undertone. “I read it the first time after Tom's father left me, and it taught me not to give up, to never lose hope, and I fell in love with the richly detailed background; it's fascinating what Tolkien came up with. I mean, he even developed all those languages in the book himself.”

Her enthusiasm amused him; it even made him laugh briefly. “I'm still trying to get through the first 300 pages, it is a bit of drag, but you make it sound as if it's worth it–”

“Absolutely is!” She shifted her position slightly upwards, and kissed him tenderly. “Are you still comfortable? I mean, I could roll off if I'm too heavy–”

He shook his head, and rubbed her back. “I'm fine... Are you?”

Helen nodded, smiling broadly. “I could fall asleep like this. You know, just lying here, listening to your heartbeat, with your hands brushing over my back.”

Moving carefully, Draco managed to pull the blanket up to cover them a bit—it was December after all. “I was thinking about finding a hobby or something like that, you know?” he said, draping the blanket over her.

“Hmm... thanks.” She helped him as good as she could without sliding off him, then placed a kiss on his chest before settling her chin down again. “A hobby sounds like a good idea. I wish I had the time for it...” She let out a small sigh. “But you should check out the local library for information on what you could find here in the vicinity. They have all sorts of community information there, and a lot of clubs hang flyers up, as well.”

“I might do that.”

“Why not come with us on Saturday? Tom needs to bring back some books, anyway, and you could check out the information they have in the meantime.”

He nodded, a teasing smirk on his lips. ”Do you think we could find a small hidden corner there?” he asked, bucking his hips slightly to emphasise his words.

She buried her face in his chest for a moment in embarrassment. “God, are you being serious?” she stammered. “In a library? Aren't you afraid of being discovered? I-I mean there are so many people—and children!” As much as she loved trying things with him, snogging in public wasn't really on her list. What if another parent would find her being in an indecent state, with his hands all over her?

“You've never done it in a public place?” he asked, chuckling at her embarrassment; his hands were down on her arse again, continuing their path down her thighs.

She shook her head, and she finally looked up again; her cheeks were still burning. “No, I think I'd rather do it at home than die of the possible embarrassment. I-I mean people will already look at us because of the age gap, but... but...” She took a deep breath. “Sorry, maybe it's a generational thing, I don't know. I just prefer being at home for _that_.”

He rubbed her thighs with comforting strokes. “I did it once, back at school.”

Her eyes widened, curiosity replacing her previous embarrassment. “You did? A-And how was it?”

“It was exhilarating! We hid in the far back of the school library, but we didn't got really far because someone else came closer–”

“Did they see you?”

Draco shook his head, now grinning sheepishly, his cheeks blushing slightly. “Gods, no! We were fast enough... Best thing was, it was my friend—you know _that_ one—who walked in on us.”

“I would've died of embarrassment!” She giggled. “But I do have a fantasy... I always dreamed of doing it in the middle of a field, you know? On some late summer evening, after a lovely picnic, basically any position.”

“Sounds like a nice fantasy.”

“Yes. It's a pity that it's December right now... I'd love doing that with you.”

He gently pulled her up a bit. “You could always imagine being in a field, we could use the bed as if it was a picnic cover,” he whispered before claiming her lips in another lazy, but more passionate, kiss.

“Hmm...” She absolutely loved those kisses, adored the way he played with her tongue, or sucked on her bottom lip—it made her want more again, and she slowly started to roll her hips, grinding into his in the process. “I like that idea,” she finally whispered against his lips, before kissing him back with all she had; she couldn't get enough of his taste, that subtle hint of blackberries, and tanginess, on him. Oh yes, his kisses were even better than those she remembered sharing with Tom's father—maybe because they made her feel wanted and desired once more. He probably had no idea how much that meant to her, being seen this way after such a long time alone. She would never get enough of this feeling!

“Mum?” Tom croaked from his room, barely understandable.

Letting out a deep breath, Helen broke off. Her son had an impeccable timing as always, because all the kissing and the feeling of the tip of his hardening cock rubbing over her clit repeatedly had aroused her so much that she had been close to adjust herself to take him in.

“Mum?”

“You should check on him,” Draco whispered, his voice sounding just as disappointed as she felt.

She propped herself up in order to climb off. “Are you going to stay for the night? I liked waking up next to you,” she said, still breathing heavily while putting her pyjama bottoms and her usual top she slept in.

Draco shook his head. “It's tempting, but I don't think it would be a good idea...”

She sighed. “At least stay a bit longer, please? I'll just check what he needs, then we can still cuddle for a bit.” With a teasing smirk, she noticed that his arm was moving up and down underneath the blanket. God she would have loved to take care of that herself, but alas, her son required her attention. “Just be quiet, okay?” she added, and finally left her room to look after her son; she already looked forward to falling asleep in Draco's arms, though she knew she would be disappointed the next morning to wake up alone, and in an empty bed.

 

Saturday afternoon, Draco was dragged into the library by a very enthusiastic Tom, who wanted to show him one of his favourite places, and where he could find everything.

“Well, hello Tom! Long time no see,” the librarian at the desk greeted them. “I see you’ve got a new friend...”

“Hello, Mrs Thompson!” Tom waved. “That's Draco; he wanted me to show him everything.”

“Mrs Thompson, my pleasure,” was all Draco could say before Tom dragged him towards the shelves featuring all the books about astronomy. “I'll be back in a couple of minutes, or I hope so.” Tom's enthusiasm about books strongly reminded him of Granger, who had spent weeks on end in the library at Hogwarts—at least she was always sitting there whenever he came in to study. The boy might love the Hogwarts library as well should he indeed get the letter. Might? He probably would!

Helen managed to find them shortly after, having returned the other books at the desk and exchanged a few words with the lovely Mrs. Thompson. “Tom, you know the rule—ten books, as usual.”

Draco meanwhile, was pulling out a book for Tom that was too high up for the boy; the title mentioned something called _Black Holes_. “There you are.” He had noticed Helen's eyes dart down to the spot where his jumper had managed to pull his shirt up to reveal a stretch of skin; it made him wonder whether he couldn't make her feel comfortable enough for some light snogging in one of the empty rows of shelves at the back, she seemed eager enough.

“That's very advanced reading, Tom, my dear,” Helen remarked when she saw the title. “That's something scientists read, not schoolboys...”

“I just want to look at it. I already know what black holes are,” Tom replied, already skipping through the pages.

“Okay, you ask Mrs Thompson for help if you want a book that's too high up. I told her to keep an eye on you...” She chuckled when she saw her son nod dismissively, and then turned to Draco with a teasing smirk. “Come on, I want to check out a couple of rows myself for some inspiration...”

“I wonder what kind of inspiration you would need,” he countered and followed her to the next floor where the books were stored she was interested in. And it turned out to be a very interesting shelf—filled with books covering different aspects of sex. As much as he liked doing it—especially with Helen, who had already pulled out a book to skim through it—he was still overwhelmed by the sheer amount of books about only that. Either Muggles were really keen to learn about the subject, or his father had just hidden the more explicit titles in their own extensive private library at the Manor... After checking the vicinity for any other library users, he stepped up to Helen from behind, and placed a gentle kiss on her neck. “What are you looking through?”

“It's-It's just a book about different positions,” she explained, sounding a bit hushed, and then turned her head towards him. “With you, I feel comfortable enough to try new things, perhaps even try a role play once?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, tenderly running his hands down her waist. “I mean, with the role play...”

Now Helen blushed deeply. “You kind of dress up as someone else, or think of a scenario—a wee bit like you said with the picnic on my bed. I think one of the favourite role plays is nurse and patient–”

“I wouldn't mind playing the patient if you're going to tend to my _wounds_ ,” he whispered into her ear, noticing with a smile how that made her shiver.

“Draco, please, what if someone sees us here?” She closed the book to put it on an empty spot in the shelf, and then pushed his eager hands from her stomach. “It's already going to be embarrassing checking those out with Tom next to me.”

Placing one last kiss on her neck, Draco made a step back. “All right, I’ll stop if it makes you uncomfortable...” He really wished he could use a Silencing Spell right now, so that no one could hear them, but he thought it only fair to apply the same rule she followed—not forcing the other into something they might not be comfortable with.

She turned around, a relieved smile present upon her lips. “Thanks. But feel free to check out the books; I'm sure you'll find something inspiring.” She pointed towards the rest of the books on the shelf, ranging from one entitled _Kama Sutra,_ to a few that covered aspects of conception, which then continued onto the shelf of books about parenting. Seeing the books about conception, Draco suddenly realised that he hadn't even cared about protection whenever he was with Helen. Hell, he was nineteen, and he felt like he had been hit in the face with both his own carelessness, and the possible consequences from it—at least for a seemingly endless moment.

“You okay?” Helen asked, when she saw him stare at her with a surprisingly pensive, wide eyed look, and leaned closer, until she saw the books straight in front of him—those covering conception—which made her smile softly. “No need to worry about that, my dear,” she started, taking his hand in hers. “If you checked my bathroom cabinet, you'd see that I'm on the pill. Have been for a long while now...”

“It just hit me that we've never even talked about it–”

“At your age, it's okay to have other things occupying your mind. I had, at least.”

Draco let out a small sigh of relief, and tightened his hold on her hand. “Thanks. And I'm sorry for having been rather careless about it.”

“Hey, you seriously had other things on your mind, with your nightmares and everything, probably really bad things from what I noticed... It's okay. Maybe it's not so bad, after all, that I'm the older one with some experience in relationship things, isn't it?”

“Looks like I still have to learn a lot,” he replied with a nod, and then discovered what she was holding in her other hand. “I see you're keen on that role play idea...”

She chuckled, and pointed to the couple of books that had joined the first one on the shelf. “Yes, amongst other things... Maybe we could do that picnic fantasy in my bed somehow...”

Her teasing smirk made him forget his previous scare; he was indeed looking forward to finding out how she wanted to make it work. He was tempted for a heartbeat to just tell her that it was within his abilities to turn her room into a proper illusion of her fantasy with only a few spells. But then again, that meant he would be somewhat dragged back into a world he so desperately had wanted to get out of. The moment to tell her would still come soon enough, as much as he still hated that thought—mostly because he was scared of her reaction, and not to what he actually was, but the things he had done in the name of a misguided belief...

“And I got a few more as well.” Helen pointed to a small pile on the half empty lower shelf. “But I think it might be wiser if you distracted Tom for a moment so that I could check them out more discreetly, he’d be smart enough to figure it out if he saw some of those books.”

“In exchange for one kiss here? We're all alone, and I won't press for more, I promise.”

Helen looked at him with rather wide eyes and gaping for a short moment, but then a smirk curled up her lips. “I think I can live with one kiss in public,” she conceded, while quickly scanning the floor, smiling nervously, but in anticipation. “But your hands stay on the shelf. They tend to wander into dangerous territory every time.”

Draco nodded eagerly, more than satisfied that he could convince her to kiss him in a more public spot. “Not that you ever complained, so far,” he countered with a teasing wink, watching her position herself with her back to the shelf, nervously biting her lips. Draco placed his hands on the shelves next to her shoulders, and studied her intently for moment, before slowly leaning closer. He loved how her deep green eyes seemed to shimmer slightly golden—as they always did when she looked at him with desire. His smile broadened and he couldn't help but lick his lips in anticipation when he felt her frame his head, her fingers raking through the short hair on the side, before she pulled him closer.

“This better be a damn good kiss,” she whispered expectantly, pressing her lips on his as her tongue gently running along, begging for entrance.

Draco decided to act coy and let her beg for a moment, nibbling on her bottom lip instead. She had put on lip gloss again, the one that tasted like berries. Just like the rest of her, it reminded him of summer and the warmth that came with it. Only when she started to demand entrance more hungrily, did he finally part his lips to let her enter, and was surprised by her taking almost complete possession of his mouth, as if she was bent on demonstrating that he was hers. Not that he minded at all, he was just surprised for a second, but then he started to kiss her back just as fervently. “Your hands,” he whispered a couple of minutes later, “they're wandering into... _dangerous territory_.”

“Shut up,” she replied, and claimed his lips once more, with her hands back to the sides of his head, after having wandered down his front to his hips.

“Hmm...” However, Draco noticed how her hands started to wander back down, pulling him closer, until he was basically pinning her to the shelf with his body, while his own hands were still safely placed on the shelves next to her shoulders. “Helen?” he breathed between kisses. “I think this is slowly turning into more than just a kiss. Are you okay with that?”

That made her break off, panting heavily. “I completely forgot where we were,” she rasped, still trying to catch her breath, and smiling shyly. “Sorry.”

“We should probably go back, anyway,” Draco replied, taking a deep breath, and straightening himself to his full height; however, he could forget to bring some order into the mess she had made with his hair. He smiled when he watched her straighten her clothes, and apply some of her lip gloss to her puffed lips. “Let me carry them,” he offered when she took up the pile of her books, and smiled when she eagerly handed them over.

“That was fun indeed,” Helen commented when she hooked in to be led back to the front.

“Told you.”

 

“...and-and this week, Draco ate dinner with us every evening... He's really nice, you know?”

“Looks like your mother is rather fond of him, too,” Mrs Thompson nodded in their direction when she saw them coming back to the checkout desk.

Tom nodded with a broad grin. “Yes, they hug a lot...”

“Do they?” Mrs Thompson replied, throwing Helen and Draco a knowing look as they finally arrived at the desk.

“Are we that obvious?” Helen whispered so that only Draco could hear her, and let go of his arm to check what books Tom had chosen this time.

“What did you find, Mum?” Tom asked, trying to find a way to see the titles of the books that Draco was still balancing in his arms; he had been wise enough to turn the back of the books towards his body to cover them.

“Tom? Why don't you show Draco the information board while I check the rest of the books out? Maybe you can even help him find something interesting for a hobby...”

Draco used the distraction generated by Helen to place the books on the counter, and noticed the broad smirk on the librarian's face when she first saw the book titles and then looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and a small hand gesture pointing between him and Helen; he briefly nodded, but placed a finger on his lips.

Seconds later, Tom grabbed Draco's other hand, completely oblivious to the short exchange between the adults. “Come, I know where it is.”

To Draco's surprise, the information board was more like an information _wall,_ that was covered with detailed information about what was available in town—anything from choirs seeking new singers, to crafting groups, at least one swimming club, a rowing club (of course!), language classes, and so on. What piqued his interest was the flyer for an archery club, which he checked out more closely. It had been Granger's advice to try and find a hobby—and her mention of archery—that had made him think in earnest about it. It would definitely help bring some further structure into his day, besides the afternoons with Tom and now the evenings with Helen. Plus, his mind was starting to crave a new pursuit, a new challenge, anyway.

“Did you find something?” Tom asked when he saw him read the information of the archery club more closely. “Mum says she hasn't got enough time for a hobby with me and work.”

Draco pulled the flyer off the board to take it home, the training hours sounded promising, as they were mostly in the morning. “What would she like to do?”

“I think she used to paint before I was born. I once found paint and brushes in a box in the attic... And then she told me not go back up there without her coming along. Said it was too dangerous and stuff.”

Draco put the archery flyer in his coat pocket, and then lifted Tom up so that the boy had a better view of the board. “I think I saw a flyer for a painting class... Do you think she'd like that? Means I would keep an eye on you on a Saturday or Sunday as well if she decides to do it.” He glanced over at the checkout desk where Helen was speaking with the librarian, a shy smile on her lips and nodding repeatedly—the librarian was undoubtedly asking her about them, the books were telling enough.

“There it is.” With an eager nod, Tom pointed to a flyer slightly to his left, and grabbed it when he was close enough. “They have one on Saturday...”

“You two found something of interest?” Helen asked, coming closer, and smiling at the picture the two presented.

“Yes,” Draco replied, letting Tom down again, who meanwhile let the flyer from the painting class disappear in his coat pocket. “I think I'll try archery... I've been told it's a good mental practice as well.” He offered to take the bag with the books. “Everything okay?”

“Mum, Mrs Thompson wanted to know how we met Draco,” Tom piped in, already going for the door, impatiently waiting for the others to follow him.

“The librarian was a bit curious about us,” Helen whispered, handing him the bag with the books. “But don't worry; she was mostly amused about it. Actually said something like ' _about time'_.” And with blushing cheeks, she finally followed her son outside, huddling herself into the coat.

“Those are going to be two _very_ long weeks,” Draco uttered under his breath when he reached her at the bottom of the steps outside, tempted to just take her hand in his for the walk back.

 

The time until the Christmas play—and ultimately the holiday itself—passed faster than Draco had anticipated; time flew by amidst all the preparations for the big day. Tom grew more and more excited with each day the Christmas play came closer, while Helen was more and more stressed out with everything, especially at work, as the clients of her employer had started to worry about the new year and the so-called Millennium Bug, and so they were forced to re-check everything, despite having already made sure that everything would continue to run smoothly in the new year, which also brought a new millennium. Draco tried to help out as good as he could, mostly entertaining an over-excited Tom until he would get tired; or he would just help her relax in the evening. Draco even went as far as taking Tom along to do his Christmas shopping, so that Helen had a few hours to herself on a weekend. The holiday season and the aspect of usually spending it with one's family had made him think about his own; so, despite not wanting any contact with his family right now, Draco still decided to send them a present each, with the help of Granger; nothing big, or too fancy, but he wanted to let them know that he hadn't forgotten them. And he even got a small present for Granger herself, as a way to say _thank you_ for all her efforts, and her advice.

 

However, and to everyone's relief, the day of the Christmas play arrived. Tom had to be there earlier to get ready and warmed up for the choir.

“God, they are looking at us,” Helen whispered when they entered the school building, which was buzzing with other parents waiting for the play to start; quite a few narrowed their eyes for a split second when they saw Draco enter closely behind Helen, but none of them said anything, at least not openly.

“Let them look. I'm used to getting stared at,” he replied in the same whispering tone into her ear. Of course he had noticed all the questioning looks that only deepened when he had leaned towards Helen. It was rather unnerving to be judged like this, and he was tempted to just grab Helen's hand and pull her away, but since she was already nervous enough about it, he fought the urge to protect her; he could still claim that Tom had invited him as a ‘good friend’. The others could just think what they wanted. With his mind set like this, he followed her a bit down the hallway, away from the other parents. “How was work today?” he asked, mostly to distract her from her nervousness.

She smiled softly, leaning back into the wall. “Thank God I managed to finish checking all my projects; everything will run smoothly in the new year. That whole Millennium Bug hysteria has been blown out of proportion, anyway, in my opinion. We only had to check it again because of the media scaring the public. We had it done twice already in the course of the year!” She huffed. “But at least I could take my usual days off between Christmas and New Year. I've clocked so much overtime that I didn't even need to put in holidays...”

“Ah, no more stress, then–”

She raised an eyebrow. “Wait till after Christmas,” she added with a chuckle. “I’ve planned a feast, after all. And I expect you to come as well...”

“ _Expect_? Sounds like I don't have a say in this.”

“As if I let my _boyfriend_ spend Christmas all alone,” she countered with a teasing raise of her eyebrow. “It'll be worth it, I promise...”

“Tempting.” He leaned in slightly. “You're a little tease, but if you insist...” They were bantering about it now, but she had long since invited him to attend the dinner on Christmas Day, and he was actually looking forward to the evening, even if it meant having to play nice once more with her parents. The commotion amongst the other parents pulled them back to the reality. “I think we can get back in now.”

Inside, they were stopped by Val somewhere in the middle rows of chairs; she actually had kept two chairs free next to her. “Hey, you two! Want to sit here?”

“Oh, thank you, Val!” Helen greeted her with a big relieved smile. “I was already afraid we would have to sit apart. You remember Draco, right?”

Val nodded, a genuine smile on her face when she recognised him. “You were at Tom's birthday party as well.”

“Yes.” Draco sat down next to Helen, who was now placed between them. “Tom tells me a lot about what he does with Daniel during the breaks.”

“Yes, those two are inseparable these days,” Val replied with a short laugh.

“Thanks for helping out with the costume!” Helen said, leaning towards Val. “You are an angel; I can't sew to save my life... Just let me know if I can help you with something else,” she added, and returned into a more upright position; her hand twitched briefly from restraining herself. To distract herself, she checked out the room, and waved at a few other parents who had children in the same year as Tom.

Draco just watched everything while the two women exchanged words; he felt a bit out of place amongst all these parents, who were all about Helen's age or above. In addition, he wasn't quite used to that amount of people around him anymore, especially with everyone chatting, which only added to the drowning sound.

“Are you okay?” Helen asked, smiling softly, when she noticed that he had grown silent. “It'll start in a few minutes. The school head says a few words, and then the play will begin.”

Draco nodded, returning her smile. “I'm fine.” Of course, he had discovered quite a few people who still seemed to look in their direction and exchange a few words, their brows raised in clear indignation. He may have told Helen that he was used to getting stared at—a Malfoy was so easily recognised in the wizarding world that people had always stared at them—but it was still unnerving now. But then, to his relief, the lights in the audience went out, and the head of school came on stage to greet everyone.

 

“He was so cute in his costume!” Helen repeated for about the third time since the play had ended, still smiling proudly, like any parent would. Together with Val, they were waiting outside for the boys to come out.

Draco nodded; it had been his first school play ever, and it had actually been quite some fun to watch the children play their roles to the best of their abilities—some better, some more nervously. Only one or two children had run off when their nerves got the better of them. “He definitely likes singing...”

Both Val and Helen laughed at his remark, because the choir, as much as they had rehearsed, had sounded slightly off two or three times. The children were still giving their best—their parents were watching, after all, and Tom had used several opportunities to wave at them as soon as he had located them in the audience, which wasn't so hard given Draco's strikingly blond hair. “Oh yes, we rehearsed the songs when he was over for that weekend,” Val finally said with a knowing side look to Helen, who blushed in response. “It worked out then, I take it?” Val asked with an amused tone. She was rubbing her hands to keep them warm, as it had become rather chilly this close to Christmas.

“Tom doesn't know yet,” Helen finally admitted, still blushing deeply, after a short exchange of looks with Draco, who was standing next to her, shielding her from the wind. “But yes, it worked out.” With a short happy smile, Helen leaned into him for a hint of warmth.

Draco shortly looked around, then rubbed her back to warm her up a bit—the wind was relentlessly nagging on his form, and she seemed to be shivering a bit. Nobody needed to know that he had cast a Heating Charm on his coat, so the wind wouldn't bother him as much. And of course, a set of parents not far off was looking at them again, to whom he flashed a fake smile in response.

“Don't care about them too much... they love to comment on everything that seems a bit... unusual.”

Draco turned his head to face Val; she had an interesting choice of words to describe the situation. “What about you?” he asked, rather straight-forward, but softened his words with a friendly smile, and another rub over Helen's back, who was unsurprisingly still leaning into him.

Val only shrugged. “I don't know you that well, but you seem decent enough, so... as long as you make each other happy, I'm fine.” She looked to the main entrance when the door opened and the first children were coming out. “Here they come.”

Helen straightened herself immediately, and rubbed her arms before turning around to face the entrance; her proud smile broadened immensely when she saw her son storm out, his friend following only a couple of steps behind—they were both grinning from ear to ear.

“Mum! Mum!”

“You were great, my dear!” Helen exclaimed when Tom stopped in front of her. “And you definitely looked like one those ancient kings–”

“Did you see me wave?” Tom asked, jumping up and down excitedly. “I knew where you were sitting, because I could see your hair, Draco.”

“Curse of my existence,” Draco remarked in jest. “And I saw you wave–”

“Did you like it?”

“Tom, don't ask so many questions,” Helen intervened, albeit sounding rather amused, while checking that Tom's coat was zipped properly.

“Oh, come on, he said he had never seen one before,” Tom retorted, sticking the tip of his tongue out, which made everyone laugh.

Daniel came over, grinning just as excitedly as Tom. “Mum said you could spend New Year's Eve at our place. We want to do a sleep-over, you know?”

“Val!” Helen let out in surprise, and turned towards her friend.

“Just a few neighbouring children. My husband is away on his job until end of January, and I'll see enough of my family come Christmas anyway. I have quite a few games ready, food, and everything else... Just let me know, but Tom can come over whenever he wants to...” Val leaned closer to Helen. “Or if you to want a proper evening without him around.”

“I'll think about it,” Helen responded, trying to hide her blushing cheeks with her shawl.

“Mum, why not?” Tom asked, still excited and looking at her with what others might call puppy eyes.

“We'll decide after Christmas, okay?” She stroked over Tom's head. “Now, let's go home, I'm starting to feel cold in this wind.” She smiled softly when she noticed that Draco took her hand in his.

“Your hands are cold,” he whispered when they started walking towards the exit off the school grounds; luckily, Tom was too distracted talking to Daniel to notice the gesture.

“Want to come over to celebrate a bit? He's going to crash soon; it was an exciting day...”

“Yes! You have to come over, Draco! We could play a game!” Tom added from behind where he was walking with Daniel and Val, talking animatedly about all the mistakes the other children had made in the play.

“And get a chance to finally defeat you at something?” Draco countered amused, knowing full well that he wasn't going to win tonight, but it was about having fun most of the time, not about winning or losing.

“At least _I_ would love to have you over,” Helen added more quietly, a shy, but teasing smile playing on her lips.

“I know,” Draco replied with the same quiet tone, but brushed his thumb over the back of her slightly warmer hand he was still holding.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my story! Please do leave a review if you liked it... :)


	9. Memorable Christmas dinner

“Thank God, you're here!” Helen remarked when she opened the door on Christmas Day, smiling broadly.

“You said _from 2.30_ ,” Draco replied with a raised eyebrow. He liked how her flushed cheeks, together with her green eyes, made her face glow. It evened out the—in his opinion—hideous Christmas jumper she was wearing, something that needed to be gone as soon as he got the chance.

“It's 2.32.” She laughed, and then stepped aside. “Come in, it's freezing outside.” However, she couldn't resist placing a short kiss on his cheek when he was next to her. “My parents are already here.”

To her amusement, Draco put on his fakest polite smile; the one that was reserved for people he didn't like that much, but had to deal with. “Here, I’ve even brought presents,” he then said, raising the bag in his hand. “You said I should bribe your parents with a bottle of wine–”

“Bribe?” Helen countered, amused, taking the bag out of his hand. “I said it would make a nice impression on them.”

“Different words, same meaning.”

Shaking her head slightly in amused disbelief, Helen placed another short kiss on his cheek. “But still, thank you! I'm glad you're here... Come, let's join the others in the living room.”

As soon as Draco entered the living room area, Tom looked up from his game of Blackjack with his grandfather. “Draco! You're here!” he shouted, smiling in delight, before returning to his cards. According to the cards in the hands of both players, Tom was winning this game as well.

“Hey, your mother promised a nice dinner!” Draco replied. He saw that Tom and the old man were both wearing Christmas jumpers as well, and it made him feel out of place for a short moment for not wearing one. It had just never been a tradition in his family.

“Mother, Dad! I'm sure you remember Draco... He was at Tom's birthday party as well,” Helen introduced him to her parents, a polite smile on her lips that looked strained whenever she glanced towards her mother.

Helen's father looked up, returning the polite smile in a genuine fashion. “Of course I remember you! You're that young man who keeps an eye on my grandson. I'd get up to properly greet you, but my knee is acting up a bit in this weather.” He returned his attention to his cards as it was his turn to play. “Tom told me already that he likes playing chess with you because he likes the challenge...”

Draco nodded. “We usually play to win.” He was surprised at the friendly tone of the elder man; maybe the evening might turn out better than expected.

“Though _I_ am surprised that you don't celebrate with your _own_ family.” Unlike her husband, Mrs Fawley was eyeing Draco warily, sitting on the sofa with a mug in her hands. She had watched the other two play before he arrived. The cool tone in her voice was a sure sign that she still didn't like Draco too much, for whatever reason.

Draco felt Helen wince beside him, and smiled briefly, but politely. “They are not in the country at the moment, and Helen has been nice enough to invite me so that I wouldn't spend the holidays completely alone.”

“Sara, please be nice,” Mr Fawley intervened when he noticed what was going. “It's Christmas, after all, my dear.”

“I won!” Tom laid down his last card with a huge satisfied grin. “Again, grandpa!”

Helen took that as a sign to leave the living room. “The mulled wine is in the kitchen if you want some,” she whispered to Draco, gently pulling him towards the kitchen. “Believe me, you'll need some! Mum's apparently in a difficult mood today, Dad already warned me. Plus, I need some help in the kitchen...”

“I can imagine what kind of _help_ you need,” Draco replied teasingly, but nonetheless followed her willingly into the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Helen poured him some mulled wine into a rather big mug. “There you are. Definitely makes my mother more bearable. I’ve already had some–”

“Ah, that's the reason for your flushed cheeks!”

“Yes,” she chuckled, shrugging her shoulders, “it's just that Mum has already berated me for not going to Christmas mass, can you believe that? I never liked it as a child, why should I force Tom to sit through something like that?”

“Why didn't you like them as a child?” Draco asked, and took another sip from his mug.

“I think, as a child, I just found them boring. They didn't touch me like they touched others. But I still like the idea of coming together as a family, trying to appreciate what you have...”

Draco nodded. As much as it was a nice idea to think about, he wasn't sure he'd like to celebrate another Christmas with his parents anytime soon; however, he didn't mind celebrating it with Helen and Tom, appreciating what he had found with her.

“Of course, sometimes it depends who you call _family_ , after all,” Helen added with a warm smile, refilling her mug before placing it on the counter next to the cutting board.

“Smells great in here,” he commented, mostly because he didn't exactly know what else to add to the conversation. And even though the duck in the oven would take another while until it was finished, the delicious smell hanging in the kitchen was already making him feel hungry; he felt a sense of anticipation rising in him, not unlike just before the Big Feast at Hogwarts. He was sure this Christmas Dinner was going to be just as memorable as those at school.

Drinking his mulled wine, he watched her prepare the vegetables, amazed at her speed while cutting them up.

 

Shortly after, they could hear Tom defeat his grandfather once more, with delighted exclamations. “Mum? Can I have something to drink?” he called into the kitchen.

“You need to come to the kitchen, Tom, I'm still preparing the vegetables,” Helen replied, still leaning against both the counter and Draco next to her, the mug in her hands.

“Lying to your son,” Draco commented, nudging her slightly. But he understood that she didn't really want to spend too much time with her mother who had made it clear that she didn't like Draco's presence too much.

“Bending the truth a little...”

“Mum?” Tom came in, his grin slowly broadening when he saw them leaning against the counter. “You're _not_ cutting the vegetables, Mum, you're talking to Draco.”

Helen shrugged, grinning sheepishly, sharing a look with Draco. “Want some more of your fizzy?”

Tom nodded eagerly, and handed his glass to his mother. “I hope you have seen the mistletoes hanging here,” he then said, pointing upwards, and with a devious little smirk forming on his lips.

Draco looked up, and saw that the ceiling was indeed covered with several hanging mistletoes; he hadn't noticed them before, and they were standing directly beneath one.

Helen next to him turned bright red while she poured the drink into Tom's glass. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, “I hoped he wouldn't point it out.”

“Mum, please, you know what mistletoe means,” Tom continued to coax her.

She handed him the glass. “Yes, I know, my dear,” she replied, now blushing deeply, avoiding Draco's gaze.

And then it finally dawned on Draco what the mistletoes were about, and he understood Helen's reaction to them. “We had them up at my school for Christmas...” He opened his arms to offer a hug.

“I should have known what he was up to when he wanted to put them up a couple of days ago,” Helen uttered, rubbing her cheeks before accepting the hug.

“Hey, not just a hug! Mistletoe means you have to kiss too...”

Now Helen let out a low groan. “God, he's only seven years old, why does he know about this kind of stuff?” She looked up, smiling, and purring lowly in response to his hands drawing circles on her back. “But seems my son thinks it's about time we do that.”

“I don't mind,” Draco replied. He found her still ongoing embarrassment endearing. “You know I like nothing more than kissing you... Well, besides, you know?”

“Draco!” Helen hit him on the back in response, and chuckled. “But now, come down here, so that we can satisfy my matchmaking son!”

Her lips tasted sinfully heavenly, a mix from the mulled wine they just had and what Draco guessed probably were remnants of duck fat; her hands were placed on his chest, slowly wandering upwards to his shoulders and neck while he was holding her waist. They both held back in front of Tom, who was still watching them eagerly.

“Sorry again,” Helen whispered when she finally pulled away, then turned towards her son. “Satisfied?”

Tom nodded, and held up the now empty glass. “I'm going back to play with Grandpa,” he said, putting the glass on the counter. His look showed that he was very much satisfied with the results of his little scheming, as if he knew exactly why he had insisted on it.

“I liked the idea,” Draco whispered into Helen's ear, making her shiver slightly, when Tom left the kitchen. “Still like it.” He started nibbling along her jaw, making his way to her lips. “Hmm,” he purred when he felt her hands frame his face and pull him down for a proper kiss. He threw his previous restraint away, and responded to her delicious lips that so hungrily claimed his. Oh yes, he liked nothing more than kissing her, was even addicted to it. _Utterly_ addicted to it.

After a few seemingly long minutes, Helen reluctantly pulled away, panting heavily, and licking her lips. “Why don't we keep that thought for later? With less grandparents around?” she rasped, smiling invitingly.

“I'd love to give up our little charade tonight, and give your mother what she expects us to be anyway...” He kissed her jaw, wanting to continue their kissing.

“A couple? Yes. I'd love to end it too. I just don't know how bad she's going to react to it all–”

“Shh...” Draco stopped her babbling with a kiss on her lips; she always started to babble when she was nervous or simply didn't know what to say. “Tom's the most important person in this, not your mother. Though I can't wait for the morning when I can wake up next to you without having to leave before Tom wakes up.”

“Then stay tonight,” Helen pleaded with a hopeful look, “and we tell Tom tomorrow morning.”

“I will, as long as I'm allowed to pull that damn jumper off your body,” he replied, smiling warmly while tugging gently at the offensive piece of clothing.

“Hmm... I'll think about that,” she teased, smiling broadly in anticipation of the night to come. “But I will put it over my special Christmas present... Draco!” She yelped in surprise when he squeezed her arse.

“What?”

“Cheeky bastard, you!” She laughed at the eyebrow he raised in mocked innocence, and kissed him gently once more in response.

“And you like me for it,” he countered between kisses; to his delight, he noticed how she grew more eager with each renewed swirling of their tongues. In addition, she started shivering in what he thought was aroused excitement; it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that his hands had found their way underneath the jumper and were now roaming over her backside, trying to get the shirt out of her trousers.

“This is... Gods, this is just hilarious. I feel like a teenager hiding from her mother,” Helen rasped when she broke off again, looking rather dazed, and panting heavily. “B-But I need to boil the veggies now, seriously.” She took a deep breath, stopping Draco from kissing her again by placing her finger on his lips. “Why don't you join Tom in the living room for a game? I'm sure he would like someone else to play with for a while...”

He placed a gentle kiss on her finger. “He plays plenty of times with me on other days,” he replied, slowly wandering up her hand.

With a longing sigh, Helen pulled her hand away. “Please. Having my mother in the next room is a serious turn-off for me, as much as I love what you were doing just moments ago.”

“Okay,” he finally conceded with a sigh, feeling disappointed; he made a step backwards, and raked through his hair to bring some order into it. “Does that mean I have to be nice to your parents for a while now?”

Helen straightened her jumper. “Be nice to Dad, I think he actually likes you in some way. I don't care that much if my mother decides to be annoying... But now go, before I change my mind once more, and just shag you on the kitchen table.”

“Well...”

“Go!” she repeated, chuckling at his teasing look.

 

When Helen finally joined them in the living room with a new load of mulled wine, Tom was revelling in his close win over the other two men—it would have been either him or Draco, who had one card left. “You should let the others win, too, Tom, you know?” she said, placing the new mugs on the sofa table, avoiding the cards.

Mr Fawley got up, groaning from his aching knees. “Your mother is upstairs, freshening up...”

“Okay,” Helen said, sounding relieved. “Here, your mug.”

“Thanks, dear. You don't mind if your new friend and I have a short talk? I'll behave, I promise.”

Draco heard what Helen's father was saying, and he glanced over to see her reaction while handing the glass of fizzy juice to Tom.

“What are they talking about?” Tom asked, taking the glass, his eyes glued to his mother and grandfather.

“Nothing. But looks like you'll have to play with your mother for a couple of rounds,” Draco explained, straightening up again. He wasn't exactly surprised, but didn't really know what to expect from the older man, either, He smiled when Helen looked over to him after a few long seconds of considering the situation.

“But I don't want to play with Mum, I want to play with you,” Tom replied, sighing.

Mr Fawley turned towards them. “Young man, you don't mind joining me on the balcony for a few words? I need some fresh air before dinner is served.”

After another short exchange of looks with Helen, Draco nodded and followed the older man outside, while Helen sat down to shuffle the cards, next to a curious Tom. “What is it you want to talk about?” he asked, once the balcony door was closed.

“Nothing much,” Mr Fawley replied, smiling friendly. “Just that I haven't seen my daughter smile so much in years, and I'm pretty sure that you have something to do with it.”

Trying to keep a more or less straight face, Draco nodded. He had an idea where this was going, but wasn't entirely sure if he liked the idea of being interrogated. Yet, the old man had seemed rather friendly towards him so far, so maybe it might not turn out as bad as he expected.

“Hey, don't worry. As I said, she seems happy, and I'm not going to oppose that.”

Draco nodded again, this time feeling surprisingly relieved. “Thanks.”

“Though, I do have to say that I was surprised at first. With the age difference and everything, but then, I can see that both Helen and my grandson appear to like you, and you seem to be a decent young man, I like your wit, especially with my wife.”

That comment made Draco chuckle. “Helen warned me...”

“Yes.” Mr Fawley let out a short chuckle as well. “So, just a few words of advice, before we should go back in... Whatever your intentions are with my daughter, be honest with her about them, that's all I'm asking.”

“Of course. Nothing less.” With that, Draco opened the balcony door again to let the older man enter first.

“What did you talk about?” Helen asked when Draco sat down next to her; she was checking her cards for one she could play, with Tom waiting impatiently.

Draco leaned in. “Nothing. Just that he didn't mind us together,” he whispered.

Helen turned her head to look at him, gaping slightly. “Really?” she replied in the same whispering tone; she threw a surprised look in the direction of her father, who was now sitting next to her mother, completely ignoring her irritated look.

Draco followed her gaze. “Yes,” he affirmed, and followed her gaze with a faint smirk pursing his lips. The irritated reaction of her mother at their return from the balcony felt like a forewarning that the rest of the evening was going be rather interesting.

 

A little while later, and after many hotly fought game rounds between the men, Helen finally called everyone to the table as the dinner was ready. While Draco helped her with the finishing touches to the duck, the others took their seats at the nicely laid out dinner table.

“Sara, please, you're being completely unreasonable tonight!” Mr Fawley hissed when his wife sat down diagonally across from him, in another attempt to keep Helen and Draco from sitting too close to each other.

“So, you're on _their_ side now?” she retorted.

“I didn't say that. But Helen is a grown woman; don't you think you should start to treat her like one? She is happy, for Christ's sake!”

“Grandpa!” Tom exclaimed. “Mum says you shouldn't swear!”

“Sorry, Tom,” Mr Fawley apologised, still glaring beseechingly at his wife.

However, Mrs Fawley only snorted in response. “Greg, you can't think she is really serious about him. He can't make her happy, he is barely twenty years old, and–”

“Sara, please! For the last six years you had something against her being alone, and focussing on Tom, and you even tried to set her up with what I can only call _disastrous_ results. Accept that she found someone that–”

“Accept it? You've got to be kidding, Greg!”

“Stop arguing!” Tom let out, visibly irritated about his grandparents fighting. “I like Draco. He's my friend, so don't speak like that about him, Grandma!” He climbed off his chair. “I don't want to eat dinner with you,” he added, glaring at his grandmother, before he walked away, towards the stairs.

Seconds later, Helen came in with the dinner, Draco behind her with the roast duck. “What just happened?” she asked, seeing Tom's empty seat, and then the loud noise of his room door being shut in anger. “It's Christmas, for Heaven's sake!” she uttered, with a heavy sigh at the end.

“Are you sure about that?” Mrs Fawley asked coldly, pointing at Draco.

“Great! Thanks, Mother, now I have to calm my son down, again,” Helen burst out, putting the side dishes on the table. “And yes, I am sure,” she added provocatively before turning to go upstairs, motioning to Draco to follow her.

“You just couldn't be nice for one evening?” Mr Fawley let out once Helen was on the stairs.

 

“Tom? Sweetheart? Are you okay?” Helen knocked at the door to her son's room.

“I want Draco.”

Surprised, Helen looked at Draco who was standing only a few feet away. “I think we should tell him now, or he won't come down again,” she whispered, a soft apologetic smile on her lips.

Draco nodded, and came closer. “Tom? I'm here. Can we come in?”

A few long, and awkwardly silent moments later, the door opened, revealing an upset Tom who let them enter reluctantly.

Helen sat down on Tom's bed, joined by her son, while Draco took the desk chair. “Are you okay? I know Grandma can be bad–”

“Why did Grandpa want to talk to you, Draco?” Tom asked quietly, ignoring his mother's concerns.

Draco saw Helen nod. “Nothing you need to worry about, okay? But your mother and I want to tell you something...”

“Draco and I are together, Tom, like boyfriend and girlfriend...” To her relief, she saw a big grin appear on his face after several seconds of him looking at them with slightly furrowed brows. “We don't care what Grandma has to say, okay? We only care about you.”

“Grandpa said that you're happy, and he's right, you know? You smile a lot now, especially when Draco is here...”

Helen blushed slightly. “ _We_ are.”

“I'm happy too, then,” Tom gave his mother a kiss on her cheek, “but do you know why I wanted to hang up those mistletoes in the kitchen?”

“Why?” Draco asked, looking just as surprised as Helen.

Tom's grin turned into a mischievous smirk. “Last week, I couldn't fall asleep and wanted to come down for something to drink.”

“Last week?” Helen asked, trying to remember the evenings, but all she could remember was the time spent with Draco. “I don't remember you coming down once last week...”

“You didn't notice, Mum, because you were kissing Draco on the sofa. And not like you were tonight in the kitchen...”

Now Helen giggled in embarrassment, looking over to Draco who had leaned back, showing an astonished smile. “Oh my God! You saw us?”

“I didn't want to interrupt because it looked like something that makes you happy. Kissing Draco, I mean.”

Shaking his head, Draco leaned forward again. “You little devil...”

Helen placed a kiss on Tom's head. “Everything okay now? Because dinner is waiting, and then presents...”

Tom nodded. “I'm hungry.”  
  


“Why are Christmas trees so bad at sewing?” Tom read out the joke from the very last cracker on the table, still giggling from the other cracker jokes, while his grandmother brought the pudding from the kitchen where she had stored it during dinner, “because they always drop their needles...”

Everyone laughed at the traditionally bad pun—the crackers had decidedly helped to ease the tension between the adults so that the dinner had been enjoyed in a more relaxed atmosphere, though the disagreement was still lurking under the surface.

“So, out of curiosity,” Mr Fawley started, digging his spoon into the Christmas pudding when his wife had finally sat back down next to him, “and I do hope you don't get me wrong... But how come you moved here to this place instead of somewhere bigger? I mean, I remember that you said you were rather well-off at Tom's birthday party.”

Draco briefly looked at Helen while trying to figure out an acceptable answer. The whole situation was complicated enough; and the only person he ever intended to one day maybe tell everything was Helen. Gods, he didn't even know yet how to do _that_! “I just wanted to move out of my parents' house, as fast and far away as I could,” he finally replied, as close to the truth as he could. “This was the first place on the list.”

Mr Fawley nodded, chewing on his pudding. “I'm sure you had your reasons,” he said after swallowing. “Where do your parents live, then?”

Draco liked the rather casual tone with which the older man tried to keep the conversation going, and—especially after their talk on the balcony—he liked what he thought was a genuine curiosity. “Wiltshire.”

“Ah, I think we've been there once, years ago, haven't we, Sara?” Mr Fawley replied. “It's indeed a bit far away from here.”

Draco nodded, loading his spoon with pudding. Helen was right, despite being such a hag tonight, her mother made a wonderful Christmas pudding.

“So, you say that you are from a _well-off_ family from Wiltshire,” Mrs Fawley inquired in her usual disapproving tone while scooping the next load on her spoon.

“Yes.” Draco eyed her warily, awaiting the next attempt to insult him. However, she couldn't really shock him; she was tame compared to his relatives, merely utterly annoying.

“Mother, please,” Helen tried to intervene after swallowing what she had been chewing on slowly while watching the conversation between her parents and Draco.

“It's okay,” Draco whispered, taking her hand under the table for a moment. “I've had worse. Far worse.”

Helen shook her head. “No, it's not okay–”

Mrs Fawley snorted loudly at the scene in front of her, having clearly noticed the discreet gesture. “Don't you have any goals in life, except for living off your parents' money?”

“Sara!”

“Mother!”

Draco only glared at the elder woman for a second or two, considering his answer. Her attempts weren't worth getting outraged over them, as her opinion didn't matter that much to him, anyway. “Mrs Fawley,” he started coolly, but politely, “I just finished my education. So, forgive me for needing some time to figure out what I want to do with my life. And, for your information, it's not my parents' money, it's _my own._ ”

“We all had a gap year, or something like that, when we finished our degrees, didn't we, _Sara_?” Mr Fawley intervened a bit exasperated, trying to put everything into perspective again. “Why don't we start with the presents instead?”

 

The giving of the presents started with Tom picking two from under the tree, and handing one to Draco. “That's from me... Mum helped a bit,” he explained with an excited grin.

Watched by everyone else, and rather curious himself, Draco opened the gift bag Tom had given him; he found a stocking inside, filled with small trinkets, peanuts, and tangerines, and it had his name stitched on the brim. “Thank you, that's a very nice present...” It was a simple gift, and he definitely appreciated it, coming from Tom.

“I haven't seen one at your place, so I thought I could make you one.” Tom said, satisfied that his present seemed to have been a good idea.

“I had to ask Val for the stitching though,” Helen added, leaning in. “Your name is hard to find in shops.”

“Thanks.” Ignoring the huffing from her mother, Draco pressed a short kiss on Helen's cheek, and waved to Tom, who had sat back on his chair, ready to open his present.

“I guess that's from my grandparents,” Tom said, shaking his present carefully before he started shredding the wrapping paper.

“Yes, I hope you like it. It's not that easy to find something for boys like you,” Mr Fawley explained with a warm smile. “You can use it to play with your friends. You know, the ones you had over on your birthday.”

“Cool!” Tom unwrapped a pair of walkie-talkies, and even in the colours he liked. “Thank you, Grandpa!” He got up to hug his grandfather, but then wilfully ignored his grandmother.

Helen sighed at Tom's behaviour, and then got up. “Now, my turn,” she said with a teasing smile, and brought her presents to the table; she handed a rather big one to Tom, one to each of her parents, and a small one to Draco.

“A telescope! Thank you, Mum!” Tom exclaimed happily as soon as he had shredded the wrapping and recognised the content.

“We can test it when the weather is a bit better,” Helen replied, smiling broadly at the excitement of her son, he more than deserved it after those horrid two weeks.

Next to Tom's further excited exclamations, Draco unwrapped his own small present, and was touched when he saw what Helen had given him—a duplicate key to her place, so that he could come and go as he wanted. It felt like a confirmation that they were officially a couple now, and no longer hiding.

“You like it?” Helen whispered when she noticed that Draco was still playing with the key in his hands. “I thought, now that you're my proper _boyfriend,_ and everything, you shouldn't need to knock anymore.”

Draco nodded, and kissed her cheek once more. “Thanks.” If only she knew that he could enter her house with other means...

Meanwhile, Mr Fawley unwrapped a tie in his favourite colours, and Mrs Fawley unwrapped a book Helen knew had been long since on her reading list.

Smiling broadly, Draco then got up to bring his presents to the table—one for Tom, one for Helen, and one for the Fawleys as well, to the elder man's surprise.

“A book about astronomy! That's perfect for the telescope!” Tom exclaimed when he had pulled off the wrapping paper. “Thanks!”

Then Helen unwrapped hers, a biography about her favourite actress, Audrey Hepburn. “Oh, thank you! It's wonderful!”

“Look inside.”

Curious, Helen opened the cover. “ _In memory of our film night. It meant a lot to me. Draco_ ,” she read, her voice cracking slightly. “Thank you.” With a big warm smile, she hugged him, and planted a small heartfelt kiss on his cheek. “I didn't know you remembered the actress...”

“Film night?” Mrs Fawley asked, a suspicious tone in her voice, as she skimmed through the book she had just received.

“Mother, please. Just stop it. I was trying to help Draco then; he had a few bad days, _really_ bad days,” Helen retorted icily, her arm still wrapped around Draco.

“A whisky! And a rare Glenfarclas, too!” Mr Fawley exclaimed when he pulled the bottle out of the bag. “Now, that's what I would call a successful bribe...” He shot his wife another exasperated glare when she took a deep breath, as if he knew what was coming now.

“I don't want to know how you _helped_ him,” Mrs Fawley continued, ignoring her husband's warning glare. “I can see where it ended.”

“Sara! I told you to be nice, for once!”

Helen finally let go of Draco, glaring with disappointed anger at her mother. “I think I've had enough for the moment.” Without hiding her annoyance, she got up to bring the previously collected dessert plates back into the kitchen. “If you want, Tom, you can go upstairs and chose whatever Christmas film you want to watch today, Grandpa will surely help you putting it on.”

Tom didn't have to be told twice as he darted off his chair to run upstairs. “I want to watch the Muppets Christmas Film now!”

 

Mrs Fawley followed her daughter into the kitchen with the glasses, leaving Draco and Mr Fawley alone at the table, both apprehensive of what was about to happen in the kitchen. “You better follow my daughter, young man, while I keep an eye on Tom,” the older man said, a slight groan audible in his voice. “My wife usually means well, but tonight she doesn't seem able to stop, I'm sorry about that.”

Draco nodded, and got up. “My family was worse...” He could already hear the two women before he really left the table.

“Have you lost your senses? Because you can't be serious–”

“Mother, I said I had enough of this! Every year it's the same bloody discussion. You're never satisfied whether I stay single because I simply don't have time for dates, you know, between work and Tom, or find someone decent who actually cares about my son, and who isn't a complete freak.”

“You're almost thirty years old, you can't be serious about dating a barely twenty-year-old–”

“Do you really think we haven't discussed that?” Helen's voice grew even louder. “Yes, it's unusual, but I don't care. All I care about is that Tom likes him, and that he makes me happy. I don't need _your_ permission!”

That was when Draco finally came in; he could see that Helen was clearly upset and rather furious, though she tried not to shout at her mother for the sake of the holiday. “Everything okay?”

“No.” Helen immediately came over to him, and took his hand for reassurance. “She thinks you're not good enough,” she added, taking a deep breath while holding on to his hand.

“Wasn't it enough that you upset Tom just before dinner?” Draco questioned the older woman, his voice a quiet, but dangerous growl. “You want to completely ruin this evening? _Why_?”

“I don't trust you,” Mrs Fawley spat. “And I just can't imagine what you could possibly offer my daughter besides probably empty promises. You’re just using her... And I've seen the key–”

“Mother! This is none of your business!” Helen exploded, not caring any longer whether she was shouting or not. “It is not your business what promises he has, or hasn't, given me. None!”

Sensing that she was about to jump at her own mother, Draco now held Helen's hand tightly; she might come to regret it later otherwise. Nothing her mother could possibly hurl at him, nor her disapproval, would ever be a close match to what he had to endure both under the Dark Lord's rule as well as over the last year before coming here. It was nothing he couldn't handle, though he still felt his irritation turn into anger at the relentlessness of the older woman. “As Helen said, what is between us is none of your business. She knows what she is getting herself into,” he finally said, holding Helen's hand tight in his grip. “Your daughter is a great person, with a good heart, and I've always been honest with her about what she can expect. And I'm not saying these things lightly. But you, Mrs Fawley, on the other hand, give the impression that nothing Helen does would _ever_ be good enough for you. No, you only showed contempt and disdain all evening... Even your husband has the decency to be civil with me–”

“Oh, Greg... He is way too fast in liking people,” Mrs Fawley retorted. “I just–”

“God! No, Mother, you stop now!” Helen interrupted her; she was still trying to get out of Draco's hold, but didn't have a chance against his tight grip. “All you did was to repeatedly insult Draco, you know? And you didn't just insult him, you also insulted _me_. And Tom, because he likes Draco...”

“Helen, dear, I still think–”

“You don't get it, Mother. I don't care... I want you to just _stop_!”

Mrs Fawley didn't reply, she only shook her head and muttered something inaudible while staring at them for a few moments. “I see, you won't listen to your mother,” she finally said. “I only have your best interests at heart, my dear, and I tell you, this will only end in a disaster, this little fling.”

Helen shook her head almost violently. “No, you don't. Because every other man I might choose will still be a mistake in your eyes, except for Terry. Guess what? He's not coming back, and I don't want him back either. Mother, he fucking ran out on me, how could I possibly take someone like that back? _How_?” She was now shaking from anger, her voice was cracking accordingly. “It's my life, so please stop interfering. Tom really is the only one who has a say in this, and he absolutely likes Draco.”

Mrs Fawley opened her mouth several times, as if she was going to say something, then decided against it, realising that she wasn't going to win this fight. “Fine,” she muttered and stormed out of the kitchen.

“God, finally!” Helen let out, heaving a big relieved sigh, and then hugged Draco tightly as soon as her mother was heard muttering around in the living room. “I was so bloody close to finally snapping!” She buried her face in his chest for a moment, breathing in deeply.

Draco just stroked her back gently, taken in by the intense prickling feeling she was giving off. “I know the feeling, my father tends to get under my skin the same way...”

“If he is like that, then I understand why you wanted to get away,” she replied, muffled by his shirt. “But you sure impressed her.”

“Yes...” He chuckled gently, and let his hands run through her hair, knowing that it usually helped to calm her down. “I grew up with harpies like her in my family.”

She nodded, and took another deep breath. “Hmm... Thanks, though.”

“Feeling better again?”

“No, not really.” She shook her head. “I think I need more of that mulled wine.” And with another deep sigh, she slowly broke off the embrace, only to open the cupboard to get two mugs out. “I'm not in the mood to join them for the film,” she said, filling both mugs with the remnants of the mulled wine. “I'd rather stay here with you and empty the rest of the wine.”

“Thanks.” Draco took the mug she offered him, and then watched her gulp down her own mug in one go; she must still be rather worked up about what just happened. Still watching her, he half-emptied his mug.

“Seriously, I'm sorry about my mother, I should've known. We have a similar discussion every single year, I have them up here,” she apologised, and gestured above her head.

“She _is_ quite some person–”

“Oh yes!” Helen refilled her mug, and then leaned against the counter. “And I'm really sorry that I've put you through all this. I should've invited you separately, tomorrow,” she added, heaving a sigh. “I mean... you're kind of part of my family now, and I just wanted to spend Christmas with my family. I'm really sorry that my mother just couldn’t be nice for an evening.”

Draco finished his mug, and placed it back onto the counter, behind Helen. Himself feeling calmer again, he took her free hand, interlacing his fingers with hers, before leaning against the counter next to her. “It's okay. My family is worse, believe me. All fake politeness, but everyone is judging everyone else for the smallest misstep.”

She let out another sigh, still trying to calm down; though, her eyes were still burning with anger when she looked at him. “She was horrible to you.”

“Come here,” he said calmly, and pulled her closer until he could wrap his arms around her for another embrace. “Your mother really can't shock me with anything she might try. She doesn't matter, okay?”

“You're really fine with that?” she murmured, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist; for once, their roles were reversed—he was calming her.

“I can live with it.” Draco could still sense an intense prickling coming from her, but it seemed that she finally started to calm down in response to his fingers massaging her scalp.

“Thanks for your patience,” she whispered, letting out a low purr.

“Thanks for the key. Means a lot.”

She nodded. “I could see it,” she replied softly, letting her hands wander up his back. “And I really liked the book, and the dedication. It's wonderful.”

“Tom pointed it out, and said that she was your favourite actress. I had to buy it because it reminded me of that weekend when I saw it.”

She turned her head up to look at him, smiling softly. “Thanks.”

“Feeling better?”

“A bit,” she replied, with a nod. “But I know one thing that would make me feel even better...”

“I see.” After placing a kiss on her forehead, Draco opened his arms, only to lift her up on the counter, making sure that the mugs were out of reach. “That's better.”

Helen nodded, and with a mischievous smirk, she immediately pulled him closer until she could press her lips on his, shoving her tongue right in his mouth. The passion with which she devoured his mouth showed how furious she still was underneath, there was no holding back on her part, and she wasn't going to be tender. Desperate for the touch of his bare skin, her hands were already occupied with his shirt buttons, fumbling them open.

“Didn't you say with less grandparents around?” Draco whispered breathlessly between kisses, amused about her careless eagerness to have him undressed. He had his hands on her lower back, cupping her arse; sitting on the counter, she had the perfect height to grind his hips into hers, though there was still too much clothing involved.

“Says the one who couldn't get enough earlier... Now stop talking, and keep going.” With her legs around his waist, she pulled him even closer, letting out a moan when her covered folds came in contact with his groin.

 

“Helen, dear?” Mr Fawley called from the living room when the film was finished about an hour later.

She sighed, and leaned her head against the upper cupboard. “I'm fine, Dad.” She gently pulled Draco up who was by now occupied with her cleavage; her jumper long since lying on the floor, her top underneath pulled down to reveal her bra. “We need to stop now, my dear. The film's over,” she whispered, panting heavily.

Draco groaned in response, his hands still roaming over her lower body. “Please don't,” he begged, stroking over her thighs.

“I know.” Taking a deep breath to regain some control, she raked through her hair. This had been hilarious, making out with Draco in the kitchen—hilarious, and absolutely exhilarating. “My parents will be gone soon. Dad maybe wants one last mug of mulled wine for the road, my mother might complain about it, and then they will leave,” she reasoned with a warm smile, pulling her top back up. “Now, please help me down.”

“Why didn't you put on a skirt today?” he asked, slightly disappointed, while lifting her from the counter.

“Helen?” her father called once more.

“We're coming,” she replied, and smoothed her clothes as good as she could before putting her jumper back on. She couldn't help but smirk when she saw the effect she had had on Draco. “Think of my mother, that might help with your... situation.”

Draco grinned in response, closing his shirt. “Give me a minute, then I'm more representable again. But don't let your father wait any longer.”

“Okay, let's see how fast we can get them out,” she replied, her cheeks still slightly flushed, and turned to leave the kitchen.

“There you are,” Mr Fawley greeted her with a warm smile when she came into the living room. “I see you're smiling again,” he added with a knowing wink.

She smiled, trying to keep her embarrassed smile under control. “Draco helped a bit. Thanks for being nice to him.”

“He's a bit young to be honest, but he seems decent regardless what your mother might think... And if he can make you happy, then I won't complain. You've been lonely long enough.” He got up, groaning from his still aching knees.

“Thanks, Dad.” She hugged him in response to his words; he couldn't possibly understand what that meant to her. “Mother is upstairs to freshen up again?” she asked when she finally let go again.

“Yes. And I've let Tom watch the film upstairs, he didn't need to hear the argument.”

“You did watch something else down here then?” Helen very much appreciated her father's thoughtfulness; Tom really didn't need to have his Christmas spoiled by a petty argument.

He nodded, and then looked to the kitchen door. “Looks like your new friend has calmed down enough.”

Helen turned around, to see a smiling Draco exit the kitchen; she could see that he had tried to bring some order to his hair, but as always she had made a complete mess of it. “Yeah, sorry. He's a bit addictive...”

Her father nudged her in the side. “I was once young too, as unlikely as that might sound.”

“Mr Fawley,” Draco said when he reached them at the sofa, discreetly taking Helen's hand.

“Draco,” the older man replied with a nod.

“Finished _cleaning_ the kitchen?” Mrs Fawley asked when she came back down from the bathroom. “Though I'm not sure you're supposed to make _such noises_ while cleaning...”

Helen chose to ignore the disparaging comment, and only rolled her eyes; there was no need to continue the argument now.

“Sara!” Mr Fawley hissed instead, “I've had enough. We're leaving now.”

“Don't you want to have another mug of mulled wine, Dad?” Helen asked, trying to keep her satisfied grin in check. “You usually want one.”

“Sweetheart, I think I would rather save you two from your mother's scorn. Maybe next year again.” He pulled her into another short hug. “Just be careful, okay? I don't want to see your heart broken again...”

“I will.” Helen pressed a short kiss on her father's cheek, then let go of him. “And you'll be careful on the road, okay?” She sighed when she saw her mother eyeing Draco once more, who just stared straight back, albeit with the fakest polite smile she ever seen on him. Oh, she completely shared the sentiment, very much looking forward to having her finally leave.

“Draco,” Mr Fawley then said, turning towards the younger man. “Despite what my wife thinks, it was a pleasure to meet you.” He offered his hand for a shake. “But I hope you remember my words,” he added, to which Draco nodded reassuringly, with a genuine smile.

Helen ignored the opened arms of her mother who wanted a hug for goodbye as well. But she wasn't going to give her the satisfaction tonight, not after such an argument... No, she had gone too far this time. So, she just briefly waved at her mother, a faint smile on her lips. “Goodbye. I hope you get home safely.”

“Helen, that's no way to say goodbye to your mother,” Mrs Fawley replied to her daughter's refusal.

“It can be after such an evening,” Helen replied, coldly, taking a step towards Draco.

“Sara, let her be.” Mr Fawley intervened when his wife wanted to retort something to Helen's remark. Taking her hand, he pulled her towards the entry hall area to grab their coats. “Say goodbye to Tom for us, and Happy New Year,” he said, helping his wife with the coat.

“You too, Dad!” Helen waved when her parents finally left through the front door. “Finally! Now, only Tom needs to be put in bed properly... And I promise you're going to like my special present.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter might take a moment before getting posted, as I'm working on a story for another challenge, but it will not be forgotten... :-)
> 
> As always, please do leave a review if you liked the story!


	10. A cup of tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for taking longer to update, I was buried in competition entries (all one-shots) with almost identical deadlines, which sucked up most of my energies to write. Besides that, I was a bit in a funk, so I put the story back for a few weeks.
> 
> I know it's a bit shorter than the other chapters, I've chucked almost half out from the first draft, but it works better this way, keeping up with the pace and characterisations. The surprise mentioned at the end of the chapter will be the main event in the next chapter... ;-)
> 
> And last but not least: many, many thanks to Suzi for proofreading the chapters, making them readable! *hugs*

The next morning was Boxing Day, and Draco was awoken by the sounds of whispering next to him. His eyes still closed, he gently stroked his fingers over Helen's stomach, briefly disappointed that she was wearing a pyjama shirt; he didn't remember her putting something on before finally falling asleep the night before. But then he heard hushed words being exchanged, and realised that Helen was already awake and talking to her son who had found his way into her bed.

“...he probably wants to sleep a bit longer,” Helen said with a soft, still rather sleepy voice.

“Is he really going to stay now?”

“Yes. We told you the truth yesterday.”

“Do you like him?”

Draco could feel Helen nod, her hair slightly tickling his face, and was only barely able to contain a rather smug smile.

“Very much so, my dear. Very much.” Helen surprised Draco by lacing her fingers with his on her stomach, letting her thumb follow the outline of his.

“He likes you, too.”

Hearing her place a soft kiss on Tom's head, he trapped her thumb with his, still pretending to be otherwise asleep. He _definitely_ liked her, perhaps even more than just that; however, he couldn't say what exactly had drawn him to her, it was everything—how she just accepted him the way he was, how she didn't expect anything, and how she just genuinely cared for him. As much as he loved his parents, he had always felt pressured to adhere to a certain image in his family.  Not so with Helen. And he definitely liked her willingness to try new things with him in bed, like the small Christmas-themed role play she had surprised him with last night—dressed up like a naughty Christmas elf. Her outfit had rendered him speechless for a moment when he had finally managed to pull that hideous Christmas jumper off her—it had been a dark green lace corsetiere, with garters and briefs in the same colour, and an elf hat on her head. The hat hadn't stayed on for long.

“I like that he makes you happy, you know?” Tom said, still whispering.

“He does.”

Now Draco couldn't hold back a short, smug smile as he remembered how much she had liked him the night before, several times. The memory of her moans and the calling of his name as she came woke other parts up, and he felt his member stir. He just hoped she wouldn't notice; though as close as he was, spooned against her, she was bound to notice. However, the only reaction he noticed was her hand pressing his a bit tighter. Did she know that he was awake?

“Grandma wasn't so nice to him yesterday.”

Helen sighed. “You know how she is. She means well, we're all the family she's got...”

“But she was mean to Draco!”

“Shhh... Not so loud, Tom,” Helen said. “I know she was. I told her to stop, okay? But you shouldn't have run off to your room just before dinner, that was rude.”

“Mum, she said mean things about you, and Grandpa used a swear word–”

“Tom, it was still rude!” she said, her whispering voice a soft hiss that didn't allow for any further protest; she let out a sigh at the end. “I'm not going to make you apologise to her, but don't do it again. Just come to me next time...”

“Okay,” Tom mumbled, audibly disappointed.

For a few minutes no one spoke, instead they all silently enjoyed just cuddling up on the bed; Draco even slowly dozed off again, lulled by the warmth of Helen's body and her regular breaths. It felt almost as relaxed as the mornings of the weekend she had brought him over at the beginning of the month, only a bit more than two weeks ago.

“Draco?” Helen pressed his hand once more. “Tom's fallen asleep. And I know you're awake.”

“Hm-hm...” Pulled out of his dozing, he pressed a lazy kiss on her shoulder. “Barely.”

She turned to her head to look at him, a warm smile upon her lips. “Did you sleep well?”

He nodded, pressing another kiss on her shoulder, closer to her neck this time. “It's nice to wake up with you in my arms.”

“It is.”

He placed his last kiss on her cheek, close to the corner of her lips. “Any plans for today?”

She lifted her hand to brush over his head in response to his kisses. “Except for some breakfast a bit later and some lazing around, not much. I could stay like this quite a bit longer...”

“Suits me.”

**.xx.**

The two days after Christmas were spent in a relaxed bubble, all the usual worries of their daily lives blocked out; those days were full of lounging around, playing games and slowly emptying the fridge.

The day after, they had made it out of the house for a visit to the science museum, where Tom had found a willing listener in Draco when he started to explain how the rockets work that were used to send the first humans to the moon. For Draco, it had turned into an afternoon that had showed him that Muggles were nothing like he had been taught all his life—it amazed him how ingenious they were, and how much more advanced than he remembered from his classes in Muggle Studies. And Tom had been patient enough to answer all his questions, happy to have someone listening to him.

“Look, Draco, there's an owl sitting on your roof!” Tom pointed towards the top of the house, with Draco and Helen following his gaze when they got out of the car after the visit to the museum.

Draco briefly rolled his eyes when he realised that it was a Ministry owl, with a letter from Hermione, his supervisor; however, he was sure that his next update wasn't due until shortly after New Year, so she couldn't remind him about being late. “It's just a brown owl.”

“It's a pretty bird. But owls don't usually sit on roofs...”

“Come on, let's get inside,” Helen said, beckoning them to follow her to the door.

Draco shook his head. “I need to check something first, I'll be right back.” He needed to see the letter attached to the owl's leg immediately, as Hermione usually expected an answer whenever she sent him a letter, as few and far between as they were.

“Don't take too long, okay?” Helen replied, a soft smile on her lips that he just longed to steal a kiss from before she went inside.

“Just the mail, and see whether everything is all right inside.” He made his way over to his house, trying to get the annoying into the back garden as discreetly as possible.

 

“Get in, you bloody bird. I told you to hide in the tree.” Moments later, Draco had opened the door to his garden, waiting for the owl to hop inside. He could hear Maude hoot from the tree in ruffled irritation, where she was probably sleeping until night gathered.

The Ministry owl finally hopped inside and on the table, ruffling his feathers in disapproval about having to wait to deliver his letter while Draco searched for the owl treats.

“There you are.” Ignoring the owl's apparent indignation, Draco offered him several treats, waiting impatiently for the bird to hold out its leg with the letter attached. “Hey!” he complained when the owl picked his finger, demanding more treats. But he had finally fumbled the letter off the bird's leg, and glared at it annoyed while breaking the seal; with a sigh, he began to read.

_Malfoy,_

_A belated Merry Christmas from me!_

_First of all, thank you for the small surprise present, the book is a great read!_

_Besides that, I have to admit that you continue to amaze me, in a very positive way. But what amazes me the most is your willingness to enter into a relationship with Helen. I did have to read your update twice when I received it!_

_This leads me to the main reason why I’m actually writing you. I plan to come by for a visit, and I'd like to meet Helen to make sure she is really as great as you describe her in your updates. But don't worry, I don't plan to interrogate her, I just want to talk to her over a cup of tea. So, please make sure you're around tomorrow afternoon._

_Granger_

Great. Granger wanted to visit him. As much as he appreciated having her as his supervisor, this visit still felt controlling. He didn't escape his parents' control over his private life, only to end up under her control of it. She did have a point in making sure that Helen was as great as he had mentioned in his last update, but it didn't mean he had to like it. Trying to ignore his irritation, he scribbled a short answer on an empty piece of parchment, that he would wait for her in the early afternoon in his place. After sending the still rather indignant owl back to London, he returned to Helen's place.

  
  


“What kind of bird was that?” Tom asked curiously when Draco came back over. The boy was sitting on the sofa, skimming through his astrology book; to his dismay, the weather hadn't been good enough just yet to test his new telescope.

“As I said, just a brown owl,” Draco said, hanging up his coat before joining Tom in the living room. “Where's your mum?”

Tom grinned, looking at a picture of nebulas. “You actually seem to attract quite a few owls,” he said, finally looking up. “Did you know that the Greeks thought them to be a symbol of wisdom?”

“I'm in the kitchen, Draco,” Helen shouted from the kitchen, “if you were looking for me.”

“Yes, the Greeks,” Draco mumbled, nodding absent-mindedly, turning towards the kitchen. He still considered owls to be rather stupid sometimes—except for Maude!—and he wondered how the wizarding community could rely on such unreliable and moody birds.

“Everything okay at your place?” Helen asked with a soft smile when he entered the kitchen; she was waiting for the kettle to whistle, with a couple of mugs already waiting on the counter.

He came up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist; he felt a relaxing wave going through his body when she wrapped hers around him in response. “You remember the friend I told you about?” he finally said.

“The one that talked you out of being an idiot?”

“Yes, her.” He smiled; that description was going to stick with Helen. “She wants to come by tomorrow afternoon.”

“You sound like that's something bad... I mean she's your friend–”

“She wants to meet you.” Draco sighed, probably a bit more dramatically than intended.

Helen looked up, gently rubbing his back. “Would it be that bad?”

“I guess not.” For Draco, having Helen meet with Granger felt a bit like presenting her to the wizarding world; he didn't want to share just yet. And despite her words, Granger's visit would still be to judge Helen.

“Hey,” she said, placing a soft kiss on his jaw, as she couldn't reach much higher. “You know, I actually would like to meet her. I mean she did help us get out of that awkward situation.”

Draco smiled, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “True.”

The kettle whistled, interrupting the moment, but Helen simply took it off the stove and then returned her attention to him. “It's going to be okay. I know how to handle twenty-year-olds, don't you think?”

That remark made him chuckle. “Oh, you handle  _me_ pretty well.”

“I promise I'll be nice...” She started playing with his shirt on his back, gently trying to pull it out of his trousers. “Now kiss me, please,” she begged, and stretched herself to come up to his height, her eyebrow raised, teasingly.

Still chuckling at her teasing, he finally leaned down to meet her lips, those so wonderfully addictive soft lips that always managed to send a small electrifying shiver through his body. “Hmm,” he moaned into the kiss when she finally managed to pull his shirt up high enough to let her hands slip underneath, only to play with his favourite spot on his lower back. He claimed her lips a bit more possessively in response to her wandering hands, and pinned her against the counter with the rest of his body. Now wanting more access to her skin, he pushed her jumper and the simple shirt up, eager to get underneath.

“Gods,” she moaned when he reached her breasts, fondling them teasingly through the lacy fabric of her bra. Panting heavily, and clearly flushed, she broke off. “We need to stop, you're getting too excited,” she said, licking her lips, and rolled her hips into his growing bulge to emphasise her words.

Draco let out a low moan. Whenever they started kissing like that, it always intensified, arousing him to the point of wanting more. “Tom's reading, why not go upstairs for a moment?” he said, and brushed kisses along her jaw.

She sighed, and stopped him gently. “Tonight, okay? Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous thing to promise.” With a teasing smirk, he pressed his lips one last time on hers, and then finally made a step back to release from her pinned-down position.

* * *

 

“Granger.”

“Hello, Malfoy,” Hermione greeted with a friendly smile when Draco opened the door the next day in the early afternoon. Even though she already knew from his updates that he was doing better, she was still surprised how much better he looked than the last time she had seen him. Her smile widened when he stepped aside to let her in. “Thanks.”

“I would offer you some tea, but since you want to meet Helen, there's no point.” He led her to the sofa and beckoned her to sit down.

“Is there a reason why you wanted to talk to me alone first?” she asked, sitting down.

“How's my mother?” he asked, ignoring her question, sitting down on the other side of the sofa.

She studied him for a moment before answering. His smile seeming a tiny bit too friendly, and she knew that he wasn't really happy about her visit. “I've brought them your presents, and told them that you still love them, but just need some time for yourself. Needless to say that they weren't exactly thrilled to hear that, but still appreciated the presents.” She turned towards him. “However, they still want to know where you are–”

“My mother is still contacting you regularly, then?”

Hermione nodded, noticing the wary tone on his voice. “Daily. I think she's just concerned about you because you haven't really written to her since we collected your things in July. I won't tell her anything whatsoever without your consent, but maybe you could write her a letter, tell her yourself that you're doing okay, and that you haven't forgotten them–”

“Maybe,” he said, stopping her with a twitch in his lips.

“It's up to you. I'm just saying that it would ease their conscience a bit, and make my job a little easier without having to deal with your mother every single day.” She wished she had a mug of tea in her hands to have something to occupy your hands with; instead, she rubbed over her thighs to smooth out her trousers. “You know, I had to even go as far as locking your file so that only my personal wand can open it.”

“Getting paranoid?”

She chuckled. “No, believe me; it  _is_ necessary with your file. There are still enough people at the Ministry that still hold a grudge against you and your family, somewhat understandably so, but that's no reason for them to go after you.”

He nodded in appreciation. “Thanks.”

“So, is there anything else you want to ask me before you let me meet Helen?”

“Well...” He looked down for a second, as if to gather his thoughts before he continued. “I had an idea for New Year's Eve–”

“And you want to know what I think of it?”

He nodded. “Just before Christmas I heard about a ballroom event at The Imperial, and was lucky enough to get a suite there.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “That is... quite a surprise,” she finally said. “But–”

“You think it's too much.” Sounding disappointed, he leaned back. “I just wanted–”

“No, no, it's okay,” she interrupted him with affirmative smile. “It's quite a sweet gesture, actually. It's just an expensive one, that's all.”

“Do you think she's going to like it?”

She nodded, smiling softly. “Any woman would love such a surprise, believe me. And if you want to treat her to such an event, then do.” She leaned in a few inches. “But do let me know about some details, like the ballroom, the music, her dress—you do have a dress, right?”

“Granger! Of course I do!”

“Good.” She leaned back again, smiling broadly. “And her son?”

“Stays at a friend's place. He has been nagging her ever since Christmas.”

“I see. And you're just taking the chance for a little treat...”

“Slytherin, remember? We're opportunists,” he replied with a brief smirk.

She chuckled. “True. Anything else?”

“No.” Relieved, he shook his head, and started to get up. “Let's go over then. She's keen on meeting you.”

 

“So, you're _that_ friend who talked him out of being the bigger idiot,” Helen said when they finally came over, as she offered her hand for Hermione to shake.

“And you're the one that almost drove him crazy,” Hermione replied, smiling friendly while shaking Helen's hand, taking her in more closely. Helen seemed like Draco had described her in his rather sparse words, she radiated a certain warmth, and showed a bright, welcoming smile. Now Hermione understood why Draco would be drawn to Helen, as she was a stark contrast to the cool, restraint demeanour of his family, and especially his parents.

“Yeah, I think I'll never hear the end of it.” Helen blushed slightly. “But, please, sit down,” she added, pointing to the sofa.

“I'll prepare the tea,” Draco said with a smirk as he moved towards the kitchen.

“He offered to do it,” Helen explained when she saw that Hermione watched him enter the kitchen. “Said something about giving us a moment between us, whatever he meant with that.”

“How is he doing?” Hermione asked, returning her focus on Helen. “I mean he told me about how two got together, as surprised I actually was to hear that...”

“Much better,” Helen replied.

Hermione smiled softly. “He almost has some colour now on his cheeks...”

“Almost, yes.” Helen chuckled, and relaxed a bit further into the sofa. “How do you two know each other?”

“We went to the same school.” And with that, Hermione watched Helen's face brighten visibly.

“Someone from his past! I try to get him to tell me more. He does tell me stuff, but only the small things. What was he like back then?”

Hermione could hear a chuckle from the kitchen, it was clear that Draco was expecting this question. “To be honest, not as charming as he is today. He was a bit of git. But really, he has changed a lot since then.”

“I wasn't the only stuck-up person back then,” Draco threw in from the kitchen, from where they could hear the sounds of mugs being handled. “But I guess we all grew up quite fast and learned our lesson.”

“What lesson?” Helen asked, frowning in confusion, and probably understandably so, only to soften into a smile when Draco came back with a tray filled with mugs and biscuits. “Did something happen that forced you to leave?”

Hermione and Draco shared a look before he placed the tray on the small sofa table; the past was something both of them preferred to avoid if possible. And how could you possibly explain the facts of a wizarding war to a Muggle without violating the Statute of Secrecy? “It's complicated,” Hermione finally said, taking her mug to pour a bit of milk in it.

“You said the same,” Helen replied, her eyes still fixed on Draco. “I'm not going to judge; I would just like to know, okay? For example, why you had those nightmares, or what was—or still is—haunting you so much.”

Draco handed Helen her mug, prepared just as she liked it before sitting down next to her on the sofa. “I know that,” he said with a surprisingly quiet voice.

“I heard you have a son as well,” Hermione said, realising that they needed to change the topic. “ _Brilliant at chess_ was one of the descriptions I heard about him...”

Helen nodded, and took a sip from her mug. “Yes, Tom. Beats everyone at chess.”

“Loves the stars,” Draco added, looking relieved for the change of topic. “Showed me _my_ constellation in one of his many books.”

“He wants to study them when he's grown-up.” Helen put her mug back on the table, and discreetly hooked her arm in with his.

Hermione smiled at the gesture; it seemed that Helen indeed wasn't one to judge, and patient enough to wait for him to tell her on his own terms. Smiling softly, she sipped some of her tea.

“So, what do you work? Some kind of office job?”

Hermione nodded. “I work at the Ministry, in a side department that is concerned with animal welfare.” She noticed Draco looking at her with a briefly raised eyebrow, acknowledging her half-truth.

“Some things never change, Granger,” Draco remarked. “I remember your antics back in school about all those poor things–”

“That's why I work there. Because _all those poor things_ need someone to speak for them,” Hermione replied sharply, but with a disarming smile.

“I think it's a great thing to do. There are so many reports on people treating their animals badly, you know?”

“I know, but Granger was a bit of a zealot back in school.” Intertwining his fingers with Helen's, Draco leaned back.

“Granger? Why are you using her last name?” Helen asked rather surprised, turning towards him.

“Habit, I guess,” Hermione answered. “I used to call him Malfoy–”

“I remember you shouting that through half the school with that surprisingly shrill voice of yours–”

“You tended to sneer mine.”

“Everyone did. You were quite a swot.”

“And you were a spoilt brat, hiding behind your father.” Hermione chuckled when she heard him growl lowly and then straighten up again. However, she also noticed that Helen had watched their exchange with an expression of disbelief; she had obviously never met Draco's snarkier side before, even though this had still been rather tame.

“How's that redhead of yours?” Draco asked, his rather provocative tone betraying his smile. “Are you still together?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and took a sip from her mug. “None of your business, but yes, I'm still with Ron. And we're doing just fine.”

“Just returning the favour, Granger. Since you take an interest in my life, I might as well be allowed to pretend to have some in yours.”

“Draco!” Helen exclaimed, nudging him in the side.

He leaned towards her, showing his softest smile to probably appease her. “Don't worry. That's normal for us. But I'm sure she knows how much I appreciate her as a _friend_.”

“I do,” Hermione replied affirmingly, taking another sip from her mug to keep a chuckle from escaping.

“You just surprised me.” Helen nudged him again. “I know you can be rather sarcastic, but not like that.”

“It's something I tried to leave behind,” Draco replied, and placed a brief kiss on her cheek. Then he turned his attention back to Hermione, placing his mug on the sofa table. “Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a moment?”

Hermione nodded before getting up, and with an apologising shrug towards Helen followed him into the kitchen. “So, what's going on?”

“No need to get any more defensive,” Draco replied with a sigh, once they were inside; he leaned against the counter to keep an eye on the door. “It's actually a request. You heard how Helen wants to know more.”

Hermione nodded. “Yes. I can understand her, though–”

“It's just that I simply don't know how much I can tell her without violating that damn Statute. I'd love to tell her more—maybe not everything, but enough to make her understand what it might mean to date someone like me, or a Malfoy for that matter.” He raked through his hair. “I'd love to tell her what I've been through, and why I had those nightmares. And I would love to show her my magic; I hate having to hide that, you know?”

She leaned against the cupboards opposite him, searching him for a moment. “So you're basically asking me to find a loophole in the Statute that would allow you to tell her about your heritage?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay. I'll see what I can find.” She smiled warmly when she saw him relax a bit. She had read up a few cases about relationships between wizarding folk and Muggles, and they all had the same obstacle in form of the Statute. “It might take a while, though, as I'll probably need to contact a few legal experts.”

“Still, thanks.” He flashed her a short, relieved smile. “And sorry for my tone before. I just don't like being controlled.”

“Don't worry. She really is nice, you know?” She straightened herself again, and turned towards the door. “Let's go back to her.”

* * *

 

“Now it's just the two of us for the next couple of days,” Helen said when she closed the door again after waving Tom goodbye, who had just been picked up by Val and her son Daniel on the early afternoon of New Year's Eve. “Oh, the things we could do.”

“I'm glad you allowed him to stay there.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, nibbling gently at her neck. “Two days just with you...”

“Hmm...” Helen turned around in his arms, and pulled him down for a proper, hungry kiss. With Tom gone, she didn't have to hold back any longer as she didn't have to fear him seeing her in a state he shouldn't yet at his age. God, the prospect of being able to spend those two days mostly naked and with Draco excited her, and she wanted to start right now, wanting to taste as much as she could of that wickedly addictive mouth of his.

“I see you have a very good idea of how you want to spend these two days,” he replied amused between kisses when he noticed her hands fumbling his belt and trousers open.

“Oh yes, I do,” she replied, and let out a small moan when he let his hands wander down her bottom cheeks to pinch them. She loved him doing that, and pulled his trousers open in response, eager to finally lay her hands on their content.

“I actually have a surprise for you, but we still have some time left,” he husked, urging her to finally dive inside his boxers.

She broke off the kiss, and looked at him with a big smile, panting heavily. “A surprise? What surprise?” she asked, now brushing kisses down his neck while she pulled his boxers down low enough to reach his member without the annoying band restricting her.

“Not going to tell you... Yes!”

“You like that, don't you?”

“Fuck yes!” He pulled her head back up for another hungry kiss. “Don't you stop now!”

Helen loved it when she could bring him to that point, all those little moans that she could feel vibrate in his throat, urging her to keep going. “Sofa,” she finally breathed between kisses.

“Sofa,” he repeated and pulled her with him until they reached it. “I'll help you pack later,” he said and let himself fall on the sofa. “You're going to like it.”

“Will I?” she asked, kneeling down in front of him, continuing to stroke him with a slightly increased pace.

“Yes. Definitely.” He leaned back, closing his eyes. “Definitely.”

“Can't wait to see it,” she whispered, placing a soft kiss on his chest. Whatever he had planned, she was sure that it was going to be a wonderful evening; after all, she would be spending it with him.

 


	11. Midnight Fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, a heartfelt thank you to Clair for taking over as a beta, after the previous one had to back out due to personal reasons! :-* Your detailed, nit-picky notes were very helpful!
> 
> Second, thanks for sticking around, despite my slow updates! The comments are always appreciated, even if I don't have the time to respond to every single one of them. :-)
> 
> In regards of the timeframe within the story, the events in this chapter take place one day after the previous one. It does deal with a first part of Draco telling Helen about his background, the rest is an important part of the plot for the following chapters.
> 
> Now, enjoy!

“How do I look?” Helen asked when they were about to enter the ballroom of The Imperial where the annual New Year's Eve ball was held, trying to check whether her hair was still okay with her free hand. “I shouldn't have leaned back when I was sitting on the bed...” She still hadn't completely recovered from the shock of the surprise, still feeling the urge to say _wow_ every two seconds; if the suite had made her speechless, then the dress he had bought her completely blew her mind—a cream coloured dream of what she would call a prom dress, with two dark green peacocks decorating the bustier and going all the way down. Right now, she was glad that Draco held her hand, because otherwise, she wouldn't believe that anything was real at all. Yes, _positively shocked_ was a good description for it, because when Draco told her they were going to celebrate New Year somewhere else, she hadn't expected to be treated to a stay at this disgustingly expensive hotel, with all the details already having been taken care of. It was such a sweet gesture—totally over the top, but sweet nonetheless.

Smiling at her nervous question, Draco stopped her other hand from fumbling any further. “Everything's still perfect. You look gorgeous, just like the queen of them all.”

“Thanks.” She pressed his hand in response; she didn't quite believe that she looked like a queen- probably more like one of those girls about to enter the scene at a prom, like in some films she had seen years ago. “I just can't still believe that this is all for me. I'm not dreaming, right?”

He briefly laughed, and then pressed a peck on her temple. “No, you're not. This is real. And you're going to make everyone else jealous with that dress.” He gently pulled her towards the entrance to the ballroom, only a few steps away. “Come on, let's go inside.”

“Good evening,” the chef de service at entrance greeted them, looking up expectantly from the small standing desk with the list of attendants. “Mister and Milady...?”

“Milady,” Helen said, barely suppressing a giggle; she wasn't used to be called a lady at all. When she glanced at Draco, she saw that he was smirking, probably in response to her giggle.

“We're booked under Malfoy,” he then said, returning his attention to the chef de service.

“Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy...” the chef de service uttered while going through the list. “Ah yes, there you are. One of the last bookers.” He then made a step forward, away from the small standing desk. “If you would please follow me.”

While they followed the chef de service to their assigned seats, Helen tried to take in as much as she could of the whole room, astonished by the sheer lavish luxury of it all. She hadn't seen many ballrooms from the inside, so she thought that this seemed surprisingly huge, with a stage at the other end where everything was put up for a reduced orchestra to play later; the tables were all arranged around a dance floor, providing everyone with a good view of those who would be dancing. And everything followed a colour theme- purple and cream as far as she could tell. “This room is so beautiful,” she said in a low voice when they arrived at their table.

“Milady,” the chef de service said, holding one of the chairs for Helen to sit down.

“Thank you.” As she settled into her chair, she noticed that they were sharing their table with another couple for the evening. She threw a quick glance at Draco who was now seated as well, and realised that he was already checking the others out, his head cocked to the side.

“So, you're our table partners for tonight,” the man said, sounding amused about the situation, not in the least irritated by Draco's glare. “I'm Brandon Mistry, this is my wife Libby.”

“Nice to meet you,” Libby said, waving with a friendly smile.

Helen nodded and returned the smile. “Nice to meet you too,” she said, glancing over to Draco once more, relieved that he had also finally smiled. The Mistrys were about her age, at most a couple of years older. Libby had auburn coloured hair arranged in a wonderful bun which suited her dark blue shoulder-free dress; Brandon was wearing a tailored dress coat just like Draco’s, but had dark hair that had a bit of a mind of its own. But it was their name that had Helen's mind racing, it did sound familiar somehow, but for the moment, she couldn't place it. “I'm Helen Fawley,” she said, “and this my... well... partner–”

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy,” he finished the introduction, nodding in the direction of the Mistrys.

Helen was glad that a waiter brought them their salutatory glass of champagne as it helped to stop her fidgeting around with her hands too much. Actually being in the ballroom, part of the well-known New Year's Eve event, reinforced the butterflies in her stomach once more, and she kept looking around, not wanting to miss anything.

“You're okay?” Draco asked, leaning in.

“Nervous, is all.”

“To an interesting evening,” Brandon toasted with his glass raised; the others repeated the gesture.

Libby, who was sitting closer to Helen, leaned towards her with a warm smile. “This place is gorgeous, isn't it? They outdo themselves every year.”

“Oh yes, absolutely is,” Helen replied with a nod, looking down to check her dress. “Oh God, that sits so low!” With burning red cheeks, she tried to rearrange the bustier; she just wasn't used to wear a shoulder-free dress, and she was still a bit worried it might slip down.

“It looks just fine,” Libby reassured her, “it always looks big looking down.”

Still, Helen tried to put everything back in place, and that was when it suddenly hit her where she knew the name from. “Mistry... Isn't that the name of that, you know that huge contractor building company?” she stammered, her eyes growing wide in realisation.

“That would be my father, yes,” Brandon replied, taking another sip from his glass.

“Oh,” Helen leaned back. “I think you're one of our clients. I mean... I mean I work in a smallish IT company.”

Libby shared a look and a nod with Brandon before she finished her champagne. “Yeah, we outsourced parts of it a while ago. What a coincidence!”

“You're not from around here, I take it?” Brandon meanwhile asked Draco, whose stoic expression had finally softened.

Draco shook his head, his eyebrow raised. “No, I just recently moved here.”

“That would explain why I've never seen you before... You look like you belong to the club of people we have to entertain regularly,” Brandon said. Libby rolled her eyes and let out a small sigh by way of comment.

Draco smirked at Libby's reaction, understanding the notion of having to entertain people he couldn't stand. “To an interesting evening,” he said and raised his glass to finish his champagne.

“I adore your dress,” Libby said, leaning towards Helen once more, while the men started talking about their family trades. “Where did you get that piece of a dream? But relax, it still sits just fine!”

“I-It was actually a gift from Draco,” Helen replied, blushing while glancing briefly over to him. “The whole thing is.”

Now Libby glanced over to Draco who was discussing the downfalls of the upper class with Brandon, then she switched back to Helen, her eyes widened while showing a broad grin. “He did? Wow.”

“That's what I said when we got here. And it's still on my mind. I mean, this place is just extraordinary!”

“Yeah, it is.” Intrigued, Libby moved closer, pulling her chair along. “So, you work in the IT business?”

Helen nodded. “It's not one of those big companies. We're managing the software maintenance for other businesses, like yours. And you, you work in the family business?”

“Marrying a Mistry, there's not much choice. But it's fun, even though I only work part-time since I also have a son to take care of.”

“Wish I could only work part-time. I have a son too, and I never felt good to know he is alone at home until I come back from work.”

“He's not...?” Libby nodded towards Draco.

Helen laughed, and then shook her head, causing the men to look over. “Gods, no. But we met through my son. Tom's seven now.”

Hearing the boy's name, Draco leaned over to Helen, laying his hand on hers. “I helped him with his bullies,” he explained. “I'm their neighbour, that's how we met.”

“Unusual,” Libby commented, and then quickly amended her statement when she saw Helen's confused expression. “Oh no, please, I mean it in a good way.”

“I think, what my wife wants to say, is that she has noticed the age gap,” Brandon helped out with an amused look, then discreetly waved for a waiter to have their drinks refilled. “That's the unusual part.”

Draco shrugged, and took Helen's hand in his in a protective motion. “What about you? How did you meet?”

Libby and Brandon shared a tender, but amused look before she replied. “The absolute cliché story of meeting at university, going out for a while and eventually marrying.”

“Going out for a while? You kept me at a distance for pretty much the majority of university,” Brandon countered, and then placed the wine order with the waiter who had followed his sign.

“I was being nice, my dear,” Libby teased him, raising a mocking eyebrow, “because I remember disliking you at first. You _were_ a rather arrogant show-off back then. But I wouldn't want anyone else now.”

“I bloody well hope so, my dear.” Brandon placed a kiss on his wife's cheek.

Their conversation was interrupted by the orchestra coming on stage to take their seats. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, the orchestra will play its first waltz. The dance floor is open to any gentleman who would like to ask their beautiful partner to a dance. Afterwards, we will serve the entrée,” the chef de service announced, standing in the middle of the dance floor with a professionally warm smile. Indicating a bow, he left the floor again, and the orchestra played the first few notes of the waltz.

“Ah finally.” Brandon immediately got up, offering his hand to Libby. “My dear wife, may I ask you for this dance?”

“Yes, you may.” Libby took his hand, and let herself get pulled up. “We've done the first waltz last year as well because almost no one is on the floor yet. We will be back, don't worry.” And with a wink, she followed her husband onto the floor.

“I wish I could dance like that,” Helen whispered after watching the Mistrys for a moment, completely awed at their graceful movements.

“It's not _that_ difficult, actually. And you could show off your dress.” Draco watched the Mistrys glide over the floor as well. And then, with one smooth move, he got up. “Come, I'll show you.”

“Wh-What?”

“I'll show you.” He offered her his hand, though he could barely hide the smirk on his lips.

“O-Okay.” Reluctantly, she took his hand to get up and follow him on the dance floor as well. “You've had lessons?” she asked in surprise when he showed her where to place her hands.

He nodded, his gaze momentarily focused on their feet. “My parents made me learn during a summer break. Never thought I would get to show it off!”

“Somewhat hard to imagine,” Helen replied, looking down as well. The next minutes, she was concentrating on following his instructions, afraid to step on his feet with her heels.

“Don't be afraid, the man always leads. But you're doing great so far.”

“You think?” When she saw him nod reassuringly, she relaxed. Before this evening, she had never considered herself a good dancer, though she used to love shaking her body to some good music, but his way of leading her across the dancefloor made her feel more confident with every step. She even dared a few half-turns, which made her dress swing, showing its full beauty.

“The queen of the dance floor, like I said,” Draco said, smiling, when she swung back into his arms.

Helen blushed deeply, and thus distracted, only barely avoided stepping on his foot. “Thanks.” The longer the waltz went on, the more she enjoyed being on the dance floor. Maybe she should consider taking a few dancing lessons as a resolution for the new year?

However, the waltz came to an end sooner than anticipated, leaving them standing on the floor for a moment, catching their breath. “Want to try another waltz after the entrée?” Draco asked after a peck on her cheek before leading her back to their table.

“We'll see,” she replied when they reached the table. “But I think I'm going to freshen myself up a bit first and figure out how to sit on the loo without destroying the dress.” After a soft kiss on his lips, she went to the ladies' room.

.xx.

“Who do those girls think they are?” Helen muttered when she returned to the table a few minutes later, grabbing her glass of wine to empty it in one go.

“What's the matter?” Draco asked, watching her closely.

“Nothing really,” she replied, and sat down, eyeing the entrée in front of her. “Just a couple of idiotic birds who thought they'd be safe in there to make some awful comments about us. How someone as _ancient_ as I apparently am dares to date you... That kind of petty stuff.”

"Who?” Brandon and Draco asked in unison, with the latter scanning the room, ready to get up.

“It's okay, my dear.” She stopped him by placing her hand on his arm. “Told them to mind their own business and that it's not my problem if they aren't getting enough attention from their dates. But what pissed me off was them thinking they had a chance with you.”

“Gods, those sugar babes are boring,” Libby commented. “No brain whatsoever, but think their opinion is the most valuable around.”

“And you're really okay?” Draco asked again, letting his hand run softly over her bare shoulders.

Helen nodded. “Yes. I won't let those birds ruin my evening. But now I'm starving!” Looking at the Mistrys with a warm smile, she lifted her fork to finally start on the entrée that looked so damn delicious.

“Remember the girl Walsh brought along for the last charity event?” Libby said before taking her first fork of entrée in her mouth, which caused her to moan lowly. “This is heaven!”

“Oh God yes! I have no idea where he picked her up, but all she talked about was the last fashion event she’d attended. For God's sake, I went to university, I want some decent conversation, not the brainless natter of a sugar babe...” Brandon groaned and started on his entrée as well. “But the worst is still Warnes' wife. Pretentious snob.”

Helen laughed at his comments; she felt relaxed again, and the entrée definitely helped to forget the disparaging comments from earlier. They really seemed to have hit the jackpot with their table partners, because as well-known as the Mistrys were, Helen found them absolutely charming, with an enjoyable sense of humour.

.xx.

The table spent the rest of the dinner in a similar fashion—mocking other guests, or talking about their sons—midnight approached quickly. They were all quite surprised when the chef de service reappeared on the dance floor.

“Ladies and gentlemen! As you have noticed, midnight is almost here. As every year, we have prepared a fantastic display of fireworks. Anyone who would like to see it should now please move to the terrace. We have covers ready for all those who prefer to keep warm.” At his nod, the waiters opened the door to the terrace as a sign for the guests to get up and go out, Helen and Draco included.

Having found a spot on the terrace, Helen wrapped herself tightly into one of the covers, though it wasn't exactly a cold night. But since her dress was shoulder-free, she didn't want to risk a cold from standing uncovered on a terrace in the midst of winter. Draco was standing next to her, while the Mistrys were standing closer to the centre of the terrace, smiling and greeting other acquaintances, which made Helen smirk—after all, they had mocked most of those people only a few minutes ago. “Thanks,” she said when one of the waiters rushing through the guests offered them each a glass of champagne.

Glasses, of champagne in hand, the people started to count backwards from ten, shouting the numbers in anticipation. A small set of fireworks then finally announced the arrival of the new year, with celebratory shouts from many guests. “Happy New Year!” The sound of clinked glasses rang everywhere, together with many wishes for health and happiness in the new year.

“Happy New Year to you, my dear,” Helen hugged Draco, carefully balancing her champagne glass while trying to keep the cover on her shoulders. “May the new year bring you luck, and all that your heart desires.”

“I hope it brings you luck as well,” Draco replied, gently kissing her forehead.

“I already feel lucky with you.” She let go of him, only to pull him down for a kiss that let them both forget their surroundings for a moment.

Draco relished the feel of her lips on his, letting everything else around him fade into the background. Oh yes, this was by far the best way to start a new year, kissing those damnable soft lips he just couldn't get enough of!

“Hmm...” Helen finally pulled off with a warm, happy smile, licking her lips, when the real fireworks started, the bangs of the individual rockets audible. After a last short peck on his lips, she finally turned around to watch the show in the night sky. “It's beautiful!”

“It is.” Draco wrapped his arms around her from behind, making sure that the cover was securely placed around her shoulders. Muggle fireworks were nothing compared to what wizards could do, but Draco had to admit that it was still a wonderful display of colours, stars, and sparkles.

“Oh, you two! You looked like you had your own fireworks going!” Libby joined them on the way back inside, huddled into her cover; Brandon seemed to have gone inside already. “But first of all, Happy New Year!” She hugged Helen cordially when they were back inside after handing the covers back to the waiters at the terrace entrance.

“Happy New Year to you, too!” Helen returned the hug. “You saw us?”

Libby nodded. “You make a lovely couple.” With a warm smile, she turned to Draco. “Happy New Year to you, too,” she said, surprising him with a brief, but just as cordial hug.

“Thanks, you too,” Draco replied, glancing over to Helen who was barely suppressing a smirk; she knew that he still didn't like to be this close with people, yet she found the situation amusing.

“Come, let's go back to the table,” Helen eventually offered, holding out her hand to Draco. “I can see that the dessert has been served.”

“Oh great! I'm in the mood for something sweet!” Libby exclaimed, walking off towards their table.

“I think I need to go to the gents' first,” Draco said, placing a kiss on Helen's cheek. “I'll join in a couple of minutes.” He watched her join Libby, though hesitating to move towards the restrooms.

“He's adorable. Reserved, but adorable,” Libby confided, turning back with a smile. “You two remind me a bit of my own parents, you know? My mum is also the older one, probably even about the same difference as between you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, love doesn't care about age, only people do.”

Hearing that, Draco finally left for the gents', a small smile on his lips. This was turning into a rather memorable evening, with Helen enjoying his surprise very much, looking very much like a queen in her peacock dress and the flowers in her hair.

.xx.

“Well, well, my eyes haven't deceived me,” one of the male guests said when Draco was leaving the gents' room again. “That hair...”

“Pardon me?” Draco retorted warily, checking the other person closely. He didn't like either the smug grin on the other man's face, or the fact that he seemed to know his family. Hull was supposed to be a Muggle place, with no other wizards living or hiding here.

“The Malfoy heir hiding amongst Muggles. I thought I was hallucinating when I recognised the blond hair of a Malfoy on the terrace... Does your family know that you're here? Or even better, do they know you're dating a Muggle?”

“I think you mistake me for someone else,” Draco said coolly, glancing over to his table where Helen was talking animatedly with the Mistrys, enjoying a spoonful of her dessert.

“Oh no, I don't think so. The hair, you know?” The man turned his head to follow Draco's gaze. “Oh, her. Does she know what you really are? What your family and you have done? What grief you've caused?”

“You leave her out of it, understood?” Draco hissed in response, taking a step closer. Despite having fled the wizarding society, he was still not going to take insults lightly. He deserved a certain amount of respect!

“Or what? Are you trying to threaten me?” The man laughed tauntingly, and then his expression became harder, more menacing. “You don't deserve this. You got off far too easy for what you've done.”

“I have done nothing wrong. And you don't know half of it, so please keep your mouth shut, you–”

There was it again, the taunting laugh. “Resorting to insults now, are we?” He shook his head. “What do you think would happen if I told your gorgeous date your little secret? What do you even get out of it, shagging a clueless Muggle? Just a bit fun, until you're allowed back?”

Draco didn't react to those taunts, knowing that the other only wanted to see him lose his temper, to have his opinion of him rectified. “You better stop now, or-”

“You can't do anything in here, Malfoy.” The other man now made a step closer, his arms crossed in front. “You're a Malfoy, through and through. Bloody opportunists and traitors, that's what you are. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Keep your mouth shut, or you will know what a Malfoy is really capable of,” Draco replied through clenched teeth, his hands turned into fists because he was tempted to punch the annoying git, even though he would risk being thrown out for it.

“Hey, what's going on here?”

Hearing Helen's voice, Draco immediately turned around, relaxing his features into a soft smile. “Nothing. Just a misunderstanding,” he replied evasively.

“It didn't look like nothing.” She stood next to Draco, her hand brushing over his fist in what seemed to be an attempt to calm him. Her gaze was fixed on the other man, who was still grinning annoyingly smug. “Whatever problem you have with either of us, you better drop it now or I'll have you thrown out.”

“Helen, it's okay. I can handle it myself,” Draco said, grabbing her wrist to pull her away.

“Oh, what a fierce lady you got there... Do you know what kind of secrets your _lover_ has? That everyone else considers him a _traitor_? That his family–”

“Enough!” Wishing he had his wand on him, Draco reached for the other man's lapel with the urge to silence him with any other means while Helen tried to pull him back.

Their little spat hadn't gone completely unnoticed, as the chef de service arrived seconds later, accompanied by two additional staff members. “Gentlemen! Please!”

"Draco, please, let go!" Helen pulled at his arm once more. "Come on, you said this is _my_ evening, so let go!" She sighed in relief when he did what she asked for, and took his hand in hers.

"You witnessed it?" the chef de service asked.

Helen glanced at Draco, who in turn was still glaring daggers at the other man. "Yes. And I can assure that–"

"He dared to–"

"–THAT my partner only reacted to the insults this man threw at him, with _no_ intention to really hurt him."

Draco wanted to add something, but the firm pressure of her hand and a daring look from her stopped him. He still couldn't believe that the other had threatened to expose him just to get back at him for what had happened in the war. This was not how he wanted to let Helen know, not like that.

While the chef de service discussed the situation with the other man who obviously denied everything, Brandon came out of the gents' room. "Hey, what happened?"

Both Draco and Helen turned towards him—Helen smiled while Draco displayed a blank expression, though his mind was still racing and circling around the threat of being exposed in this situation. “Nothing," he said, shrugging. Scowling, and with a barely contained sneer, he returned his attention to the other man who was now giving his version of the events.

"It wasn't nothing, Draco!" Helen nudged his side roughly in the side, and then glared at him when he responded to it with a short low growl. "That man insulted him, and he reacted to it, that's all..."

Brandon nodded, narrowing his eyes at the other, whose smug smile was wavering now. "Carlos?"

"Yes, Mr Mistry?"

Brandon motioned for the chef de service to come closer, who obliged with a polite smile. "I will vouch for my friend here. I am sure he didn't have any intention to actually hurt anyone," he said, then looked over to Draco who briefly nodded. "However, I can't say the same about this individual," he nodded towards the other man, “who has—in my personal experience—a history of upsetting other guests...”

"I understand, Mr Mistry," the chef de service replied with a brief nod. For a few seconds, he glanced back and forth between Draco and the other man, weighing the options. “Fine,” he said with a sigh after a few more strained seconds. “I take your word, Mr Mistry.”

“Thank you, Carlos.”

“Mr Malfoy, you can stay. You are indeed lucky to have Mr Mistry vouch for you, but I request that you better refrain from any further physical threats to other guests.” He then waved to the other two staff members who had until now waited in the background, ready to intervene if necessary. “Please escort this gentleman out; his partner can collect his things from the table.”

“Wait, wait! _He_ can stay? He threatened me! That’s not fair!”

Draco found it extremely satisfactory to watch the other man being escorted out under protest. He couldn't help but smile broadly when he turned around to face Brandon and Helen. “Thanks.”

"Yes, thank you, Brandon!"

“No problem,” he shrugged, his apparent nonchalance only betrayed by a small satisfied smirk. “Let's go back to the table before my wife thinks we abandoned her.”

Helen shook her head. “I think I'll have that second dance now,” she said with a side-glance to Draco, and gently pulled him towards the dance floor where the small orchestra was starting to play once more.

“Helen,” Draco started when they reached the floor and she turned to face him, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I–”

“Draco, I know you didn't mean any harm, so there's no need to apologise,” she stopped him gently, shaking her head. With her free hand, she reached for his. “But why did he call you a _traitor_? Did you really have to flee from wherever you really from?”

Pressing his lips into a thin line, he laced his fingers with hers and placed his other hand on her waist. _Traitor_ was one of the words he didn't want to be associated with any  longer, but seemingly couldn't escape. “I'll try to explain it tomorrow,” he whispered, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “This is your evening, and I don't want to ruin it.”

“Okay.” She smiled softly, and then let him lead her through the slow waltz, careful not to step on his feet. “You know, Libby wanted to know a bit more about my work,” she said a few minutes into the dance, breaking the silence between them. “And she kind of mentioned that they are planning to restructure their remaining IT department...”

“Sounds like you had a lot to talk about then.” Draco was glad for the change in topic, as he had been contemplating what he would tell her the next day. It wasn't going to be easy, given that he still didn't know how much he could mention about his past without violating the Statute.

“Yeah, we exchanged numbers and everything.” She looked up, a spark of excitement in her eyes. “Maybe they are looking for someone to head their project...”

“They do like you, you know?”

“They like you too, my dear.” She kissed his jaw gently, slowly trailing towards his lips for a proper kiss.

Leaning into the kiss, he let go of her hand only to place his around her neck, gently playing with the strands of hair poking out of her crown, causing her to sigh. They stopped moving, standing in the middle of the floor and completely oblivious to the other couples circling around them.

Only when the orchestra stopped playing did Helen pull back, giggling and licking her lips. “How about we stay for another hour, then we'll go up?” She smiled when he nodded before claiming her lips once more in a more possessive kiss.

* * *

 

Late the next morning, Draco led Helen into the hotel spa, a spacious area whose design was inspired by the traditional bathing houses found in the Orient. The most prominent feature was the outdoor thermal pool that had an integrated whirlpool in the middle as well as a waterfall on one side, probably hiding a small grotto behind it. Helen was awed by the luxurious decorations and couldn't stop gaping at everything. “Oh look, we could even get a massage!”

“Later maybe?” Draco pulled her closer for a brief kiss on her cheek. The dark-blue bikini looked gorgeous on her, even though she had been a bit reluctant to put it on before coming down here, stammering something about how old and out-of-fashion it would look amidst everyone else. But she just looked radiant in it, not able to contain her content smile. “How about we try the outdoor pool first? There are only a few people, and the whirlpool seems empty.”

“Okay.” She leaned into him, letting her hands run over his lower back. “I don't think I've said it before, but thank you so much for this surprise. It's perfect, you know?”

Draco smiled in response; her gentle teasing brought back memories of the night before, causing him to smile. As much as he usually loved sex with Helen, last night had been their most intimate lovemaking yet, he had never felt more connected to someone else than in that moment. Careful, he reached for her hands on his back. “You have, after all, pulled me out of a very dark hole. See it as a thank you. But now, let's go into the water.”

“God, this is wonderful,” Helen let out when she was floating in the outside pool towards the whirlpool in the middle, Draco next to her. And she moaned in delight when she entered the whirlpool moments later. “Heaven!”

Draco settled down next to her, letting the bubbles soothe both his sore muscles and his still circling mind. Ever since they had woken up earlier this morning, he thought about what to tell her about his family. It annoyed him that he was being forced to do it thanks to that git from last night who had threatened to expose him. He had pictured it differently, the moment he would tell her everything about his world—first show her his abilities, and then explain to her who he really was in his world, even carefully confess to her what he had been forced to do in the war. A soft tapping on his shoulder pulled him from his spiralling thoughts. “Hm?” Raking a hand through his wet hair, he straightened up to see Helen point at a couple of young women in one of the corners not too far off.

“You see them?” she said with a sly smile. “They tried to insult me in the ladies' room last night.”

“I remember.” As Helen was leaning over the edge of the whirlpool, he came up behind her, placing a demonstrative kiss on her neck. “They don't look happy...”

“Well not everyone has such an attentive _lover_ ,” she said, glancing at him. She giggled when he let his hands roam over her sides under water. “Oh, they've seen us.” Her sly smile growing wider, she waved at the two women, earning herself a scowl from them. “Don't stop,” she whispered as he started to pay closer attention to her neck, closing her eyes.

“They are still watching. Want me to continue?” His hands were already tracing the underside of her breasts, repeatedly brushing over the fabric of her bikini top while he looked over to the two women, relishing in the scorned looks he could elicit. Despite what they might have thought the night before, they would never have had any chance whatsoever with him. Ever since he met Helen, he had come to despise the shallow superficiality of gold diggers and pureblood girls alike.

With a sigh, she opened her eyes again, only to see the other two women leave their spot, probably to go back inside. “Petty little things.” She turned around, showing her bright smile, and gently framed his face with her hands. “I think you're starting to rub off on me, dear,” she said before she kissed him, coyly at first, simply begging him to part his lips.

The feeling of her lips on his was still one of the best, so he conceded to her asking tongue and let her enter his mouth, only to be surprised at the intensity with which she took possession of him. After the initial surprise had worn off, he started to kiss back just as fervently, pinning her against the edge of the whirlpool. Electrified by the touch of her breasts on his chest, his hands started to roam over her body, relishing in her moans he could feel vibrate back into his own throat; her own hands were brushing all over his back, scratching him teasingly in his favourite spot. Feeling increasingly aroused, he pulled her legs up to wrap them around his waist, moaning at the contact of his groin with her folds, which only added to the desire building up.

That was when Helen broke off the kiss, breathing heavily, her eyes glazed. “I-I...” She smiled, and her cheeks flushed even more. “I-I'm fine with kissing here, Draco, but–”

“It's okay.” After a deep breath, he placed one last kiss on her forehead, and took a step back. “I'm sorry.”

“Thanks.” She rearranged her bikini top that had shifted somewhat during their short making out.

Draco looked around, forcing his mind to focus on something than the feel of her skin on his. “Want to check out what's behind the waterfall?”

She quickly turned around and nodded. “Looks like an interesting spot.”

Minutes later, they settled down in what looked like a grotto, built to give the impression of sitting in one of those sea caves where Aphrodite could rise from the sea, only more comfortable. Draco sat down next to Helen, and took her hand in his. “Remember that you asked me yesterday why that man called me a _traitor_?”

She nodded, and turned to face him better; she had her head slightly tilted to the left, with a reassuring smile on her lips. “You said you would tell me today,” she said, placing her free hand on top of his.

“I did. I just didn't want to ruin your evening, because you seemed to be enjoying yourself so much.” He took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was going to tell. “It's just... It's just not that easy to talk about it.”

“That bad?”

He nodded. “It's complicated, but I think, after yesterday, you should know a few things about me and my family.”

“I remember you telling me that your family belongs to the _wealthy elite_? Yeah, I think that's how you phrased it.” She let her thumb run over his hand that was holding on to her other hand tightly.

“Yes, wealthy elite. But that's about the only good thing you could say about my family.” He leaned back, tilting his head upwards to look at the ceiling. “I grew up with some very—I think you would say _fucked-up—_ beliefs. Not something I'm proud of now,” he continued finally with a sigh, his voice quiet.

“What kind of beliefs?”

Draco closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Up until about a year and a half ago, I believed that my family was what you might call _nobility_ amongst my people. Anyone who didn't have the same sort of... I...” He sighed. How was he supposed to explain it to her without all the things related to magic? “We basically thought everyone who didn't have the same status to be below us, common people that we simply didn't mingle with,” he continued. “Honestly, if I had met you a year ago, I probably might have sneered at you, or—worse—insulted you for what you represent in my family tradition–”

“What I represent?”

He nodded. “I would have considered you something similar to a peasant. Following those beliefs, you wouldn't be _good_ enough. I-I...” He  sighed once again, and focused on the touch of her hands on his. This was harder than he thought because he was scared about her reaction to it all, that she would let him fall. His family and his background weren't the best points to start about his real heritage and what he had been through, but now that he had started talking about it, he had to go through with it.

“So, you kind of say that your family was the worst?” she asked earnestly when he didn't continue straight away.

He shook his head, still leaning against the grotto wall. “We weren't the _worst_ , but the most prominent.” He closed his eyes. “I've seen and done things I'd rather forget because of those beliefs.”

“Want to tell me what kind of things? Is it those things that haunt you so much?”

He nodded, his eyes still closed, and focusing on the touch of her hands. “I don't want to scare you off; these are really bad things... But maybe another day.”

“It's okay.” She squeezed his hand. “You don't need to if it hurts you so much.” She leaned back as well and carefully placed her head on his shoulder.

“Thanks,” he whispered.

“Want to tell me a bit more about your family? What are your parents like?” she asked after a few more moments shared in silence. “I mean you met mine, not the best example either...”

“True.” He chuckled, and opened his eyes again after another deep breath. “I'm the only son, so I'm supposed to follow the traditions—you know, represent the family name, find a girl, produce an heir, and then one day take over the family business... I remember that when I was a child, my mother would do almost anything to make me happy, and maybe spoilt me a bit.”

“Every mother does, believe me.”

“I think you're doing well, but my mother really was overindulgent. My father is a different story... I've never been good enough for him. I mean, I was second in my year at my school, and he would make me feel like a failure. He would always say that a Malfoy shouldn't let someone like Granger beat them.”

“Your friend was best?”

He nodded. “She has a similar background to you, so my father was annoyed that someone he considered to be below us could beat me. But to be honest, she really is _that_ good.”

“What would your father say if he knew about us?” she asked, looking up with a faint but supportive smile on her lips. “I'm just curious, that's all.”

“Honestly? He would probably disown me.”

“Really? Isn't that a bit... I mean a bit _harsh_?”

He shrugged. “It's how my family works.” He shifted his position to straighten up. “You have to understand that I break basically every single expectation my family ever had just by moving up here to live in such a neighbourhood. I didn't have any plans, just wanted out. I had my views shattered so thoroughly that I needed to figure out what I can still believe in.”

“What happened?”

He simply shook his head, that wasn't something he wanted to discuss here; the talk about his family had opened enough scars that he thought had finally begun to heal.

“Not today,” she said to his relief, a soft smile on her lips, though he could still hear the pang of disappointment in her voice.

“But believe me when I say that you managed to turn my world upside down. You and Tom opened my eyes–”

“We did? Wow.”

“So, you see, in a way, I'm a _traitor_ for giving up those beliefs. And similarly, I'm a _traitor_ for those things I've done that I'm not proud of...” He changed his position once more, this time to face her. “One  thing, though, it might just as well be that my parents aren't just going to disown me should they find out; I'm still the heir to the family name, after all. What I mean is that they might try to bring me back home, and that could put you in some danger too. That's the reason why I can't really promise you anything, except that I'll do everything to protect you–”

“Draco,” she interrupted him, and sat up. “I told you before that the last promises I've heard have all been broken. We'll deal with things when they show up, okay?”

“And you're not...?”

She shook her head rather decisively. “No. You're being honest with me, I can see that. I know you didn't tell me everything, but I get that sometimes stuff is too painful to talk about.” She looked down on their still interlaced hands. “And to be honest with you, if I had met you a year ago with such an attitude as you described it, I would have put you in your place. Such behaviour is something I won't _ever_ tolerate, not from Tom, not from you. But then, ever since we met, you have been kind to Tom and me, you've been  helpful, and you seem to be a good friend to him.”

“He's very clever.”

“Yes, he is.” She gently pulled him closer. “Point is, and I told you before, too, I prefer to take people the way they are, and that includes not judging them for their past. I trust you–”

“Thank you.” He stopped her from going any further with a heartfelt kiss, a promise that he would never forget her words, that he would always try to be honest with her.

With a flushed smile, Helen eventually pulled away once more to gaze at him intently for a long moment before she placed one last kiss on each cheek. "I wasn't finished, but I think you got it. So, maybe that's the one thing I'm asking for—I do not want to see you fall back into that behaviour, you're better than that."

Raking his drying hair back, he nodded. "I'm sure you will let me know," he said, adding a teasing smile. “I  _was_ a self-entitled little shit back then, but I've left that behind. I don't ever want to go back... You're too important to me.” He got off the seating spot they had occupied until now, feeling lighter now that he had told her about his family to give her an idea of where he came from. 

She followed him out of the grotto, smiling at the other guests that were now in the outside pool as well. “How about we check out the Dead Sea area downstairs?”

“Not going for the massage?”

“You would like to hear me moan again?” she countered with a cocky smile, and brushed a strand out of his face.

“Oh, I could give you one later if you want...”  
  


**TBC**

 


	12. Unexpected Letters Never Bear Good News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for not updating in such a long time! My other WIP has taken over my time and capacity, but I'm currently taking a break from it to concentrate on my submissions to the Dramione Duet as well as the Dramione Remix, giving me time and capacity to finish this chapter too. 
> 
> I promise I finish this story, however long it's going to take!
> 
> Last but not least: A huge thank you to _thursdaystorm_ who showed up at the right moment, and who provides a great service as a beta reader! :-) And of course, thank you to everyone else who listens to my ramblings and doubts while trying to finish this piece... You help is much much appreciated!  
>  Now, enjoy!

“You will never guess who called today at work!” Helen exclaimed with a broad grin on her lips when she arrived home from work. It was the first full week of the new year, and the daily life had them all in its grip again.

“Mum, please!” Tom sighed, mulling over the chessboard in front of him.

“He doesn't want to admit that he is about to lose,” Draco said with a soft smile when Helen joined them at the table.

“And you are gloating about it, my dear,” she replied, leaning down for a welcoming kiss on his cheek. “Missed you all day.”

Still watching Tom going through his options, Draco lifted his hand to brush over her head. “So, who called you today?”

After a second peck on his cheek, she pulled another chair up and sat down next to him, chuckling lightly when she saw her son huff in frustration as the realisation of his loss started to sink in. “Brandon called to invite us to dinner.”

“You sound excited.”

“We are invited by the Mistry family, Draco. Even I know that they are big names around here, and I only moved here a couple of years ago.” She smiled warmly when he wrapped his arm around her and leaned into the embrace. “How was Tom today?”

“As always. And homework is done,” Draco replied, letting his fingers draw circles on her arm. “Admit it, Tom, you’ve lost that round. There's no move left to save your king,” he said with a more taunting tone in his voice.

“You cheated,” Tom retorted, briefly pulling his tongue at Draco.

“Tom! Don't!” Helen intervened and leaned forward with a stern look on her face.

“Okay, you’ve won,” Tom finally admitted, sitting down in his chair, only to watch Draco make the last defeating move.

“You two... really,” Helen said with another chuckle, then moved to get up. “Anyone hungry?” she asked, entering the kitchen like every evening to check the fridge for something to heat up.

“I want a rematch.” Tom put the pieces back into their starting position on the board, a defiant spark in his eyes.

“What is that?” Helen came back from the kitchen with a bag in her hands, looking surprised at both her men.

“Looks like you'll get your rematch tomorrow, Tom.” Draco got up to join her at the kitchen door. “That was me. I was in town to check out the archery club and figured I could bring something home. You only need to reheat it.” When he had brought it home, he had briefly considered using a Heating Charm to keep it warm but didn't want to risk any questions about it.

While Tom put the chessboard away, Helen returned to the kitchen with Draco following her. “You didn't have to do that, my dear,” she said, placing the bags on the counter to open the boxes inside. She smiled when he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.

He watched her examine the boxes.“You work all day, and I know you like it.”

“Curry! I love it!” Letting go of the food, she turned around in his arms and put his face into her hands to pull him down for a soft kiss. “You know, for someone with zero relationship experience you are very considerate,” she said when she pulled away again, “and I don't mean just the curry tonight–”

“Hey, I’ve got the time. But you should better heat it up now; I think Tom might be a tad hungry.” He let go of her waist to point at the smaller box. “That's for him, less spicy.”

With another soft smile, Helen nodded and then pulled out two pans to reheat the curry. “So, you said you tried the archery club? How did it go?”

He leaned against the counter to watch her cook. "Better than expected. They were a bit sceptical at first because I don't look like I used to.”

“You mean they thought you were too weak?”

He nodded. “But they still let me try out, and they seemed impressed enough.” Indeed he had impressed them; first by being able to pull the bow string at all and then by showing a surprising accuracy hitting the target. However, he was now feeling the consequences of the exercising at the tryout; he was sore all over. It reminded him a bit of his time as the Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team, a time when he had felt sore in places he’d never thought he could. Playing Seeker might look easy, but handling and steering a broom at the speed he used to took a lot of strength—most of it to simply stay seated on the broom during all the manoeuvres. It was a pity that he couldn't fly around here for fear of being discovered.

Helen reached for a spoon to taste the curry. “Hmm!”

“Mum! Can we eat now?” Tom finally found his way into the kitchen, sounding impatient. Entering, he looked at them with a brief look of expectation. “Have you told Mum yet about the archery club?”

Draco chuckled as Helen mockingly rolled her eyes before reaching for the cutlery that Tom could lay out on the table while she would fill the bowls. “Yes, I did.”

With the cutlery in hand and a smirk on his face, Tom left the kitchen again.

“You and archery,” Helen said with a disbelieving shake of her head while filling the last scoops of curry into Tom's bowl. “I thought you'd be interested in football or rugby. No, forget rugby. I don't want to have to tend to your bruises every other week.”

“I heal easily,” Draco said, amused. “And I'm definitely too skinny for rugby.”

“Yes. For them. Not for me,” she replied, putting the pan away, then leaned in for a kiss.

He surprised her with a deeper, consuming kiss, tasting the curry on her lips and tongue. He could feel her hesitate for a second out of surprise, her hand on his chest, but then she just let him ravish her lips and mouth. However, she kept his hands from undoing her clothing. “Later,” she whispered when she pulled away with a longing sigh.

Not satisfied—he barely ever was!—Draco continued trailing her jaw with kisses until he reached that small spot when her jaw joined her neck; she always turned weak on her knees when he started to nibble that specific spot. “What about playing nurse and patient later? I'm sore from the tryout–”

“Whatever you want.” With another longing sigh, Helen finally managed to pull away. She raked through her hair that he had messed up as always, smiling embarrassed. “But let's eat dinner now.”

* * *

 

The next day, Draco discovered another Ministry owl on the roof of his house, even though he wasn't expecting any letters from Granger, even less so from anyone else. He wasn't even late with his updates, as Granger's visit just before New Year's Eve did count as an update, thus resetting the counter.

When he let the bird in, he recognised it as the same indignant looking owl that had delivered the notice about Granger's visit. He didn't think it was possible that an owl could look even more indignant, but this owl managed it easily.

“Keep still, you bloody bird!” Draco muttered when he tried to get the letter off its leg. His fingers were already showing red streaks, as the owl had tried twice to bite him. However, he was fast enough in untying the laces before the owl could go for another bite, despite the small bowl of owl treats right in front of it. “Wait outside in the tree,” he said, pointing outside with a glare.

The handwriting on the letter was indeed Granger's, though it seemed to be scribbled down in a hurry; he reluctantly opened it. Any unexpected letter never held good news in his experience.

 

_Malfoy,_

_I don't have much time, but I need to inform you about the things_ that are _happening here, and I'm sure you're not going to like it at all._

_There has been a breach regarding your location, and your mother now knows where you live. I have no idea how they managed to get around my security measures; I'm currently trying to figure that out._

_Meanwhile, you better brace yourself for a visit from your mother, if not both of your parents! I will do my best to keep them from coming, but I can't promise anything as the cooperation of the other supervisors is more than lousy. Harry and his team, however, are working to have the wards around the Manor reconfigured, and they are still being Traced..._

_Connected to this, I’ve already heard back from the legal advisor about the Statute of Secrecy. There's a loophole in the Statute that allows you to talk about your heritage when you and your partner are put in danger by the continued secrecy. (The other option would have been 'upon entering a serious relationship with intention of marriage', but I don't think you're_ that _far yet, if ever)._

_I strongly advise you to tell Helen about everything, and that she better runs or hides should your mother show up. Helen is no witch, and as such wouldn't really stand a chance against your mother._

_I will contact you again, once I know more. And you should let me know immediately if you notice something strange in your surroundings!_

_But above all, please stay safe!_

_Hermione_

_(Say hello to Helen for me, she really is nice!)  
_

 

Draco had to sit down after reading the letter, feeling as if he was hit by a mountain troll. Granger was right, he didn't like it at all. With this letter, the bubble of his little fantasy was destroyed; he was forced to face what he had tried to escape. Slowly, the burning feeling of anger replaced his shock, and the items on his table, such as the bowl with the owl treats and a few books that had no space on the shelf, started to shake in response. Why could his parents not stay away? Why couldn't they just accept his wish to be alone for now?

With each passing moment he thought about his parents and the discovery of his location, he felt a growing urge to just let it out—the frustration, the anger, the helplessness at being dragged back into the wizarding world before he felt ready to do so. Now, objects throughout the ground floor were shaking, but not yet moving.

However, before he gave in to the urge, he managed to cast the _Silencio_ ; putting his wand back on the table, he finally kneeled on the floor and took a deep breath. The sudden discharge of unguided magic caused all the objects on the ground floor to shake so violently that most of them ended up broken or shattered.

Draco took another deep breath once it was over, feeling light for a short moment before the reason for his rather involuntary discharge crushed his relief, almost causing another discharge in reaction. Noticing the mess he had made in his living room, he couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. That was what it felt like to have one's dreams destroyed! But he wasn't going to give up so easily; no, this time, he would fight for what he had. If only it didn't put Helen in such danger. With a sigh, he finally got back on his feet, feeling good enough to go back over to Helen's place, as Tom would be back from school soon.

xx

“Everything okay?” Helen asked when she came into the kitchen after having put Tom to bed, her voice sounding concerned. “You’ve seemed a bit down ever since I got home.”

Draco shook his head; he was pouring himself a second glass of wine after the one he had had during dinner. He had felt restless and uneasy all evening, even though he tried not to show it in Tom's presence, not wanting him to worry too much. Helen, however, had apparently read the signs. “Received a letter today,” he said, turning around with the glass in his hand.

“Not a good one, I guess?” Smiling faintly, she pulled another glass from the cupboard to pour herself some wine.

He shook his head again and then downed most of the wine in his glass in one go. “Got informed that my parents know where I am, against my wishes.”

Nursing her own glass in her hand, she leaned against the counter next to him, studying him intently. “I remember what you told me about them in the spa. You did sound scared then,” she said, reaching for his arm, trying to find his hand.

He was glad for the touch of her hand on his arm; as simple as the gesture was, it meant a lot to him. She was here, next to him, reaching out to hold him. “I don't want to put you—or Tom—in any danger,” he said quietly, lacing his fingers with hers when she finally reached his hand. “They won't understand.”

She put her half-empty glass back on the counter and then moved in front of him, a soft smile on her lips. “It's okay–”

“No, it's not,” he replied, shaking his head again, more violently this time. “They will say things like _'I besmirch the family name_ ', or how you are _'way beneath me'_. And they will not understand why I would want to stay here, what I’ve found here... I mean, with you. That's why they will try to bring me back home.”

Helen took his empty wine glass and put it on the counter next to hers, only to wrap her arms around his waist in a tight embrace. “Everything's going to be okay,” she said reassuringly, her voice muffled by his clothes. “We’ll deal with it when they show up; there's nothing you can do about it _now_ , all right?”

Breathing in deeply, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and closed his eyes, letting the calming prickling take over his senses, letting it drown his racing mind. He doubted that everything was going to be okay, despite wanting to believe it so desperately; no, he knew his parents too well, and so he was scared of the consequences. He held on tight to Helen, his anchor against the sea of helplessness that threatened to come back like a flood. “Everything's going to be okay,” he whispered, barely audible, repeating her words. Maybe with her, there was a chance. Just maybe. “I'm sorry for ruining the evening like this–”

“Don't ever say that, my dear,” Helen replied, lifting her head to look at him with a reassuring smile. “It's good that you told me, okay? There is no need to keep bottling everything up, especially not if it bothers you so much. This is what a relationship is about... supporting each other.”

“I know,” he said, letting out his breath. “But still–”

“No, really, I'm here for you. Trust me.” She loosened her embrace to straighten herself a bit, letting her hands run across his waist to the front, up to his face.

He nodded, leaning slightly into the touch of her fingers. Right now, he was more than grateful that she was here with him; it made him feel less helpless in the face of what might soon happen.

“Feeling better?” she asked, her face now only inches away from his, smiling warmly.

“A bit. Thanks.” He lifted his hands from her shoulders to frame her face, then placed a simple kiss on her forehead. For a moment, he considered telling her everything, showing her on the spot what he really was. But then he remembered that they were invited to attend a dinner at the Mistry's on the weekend, and she was already nervous enough about it. “You know what? We still need to find a dress for the dinner on Saturday,” he said instead, changing the topic to distract himself from his spiralling thoughts.

“I can probably take off Friday afternoon, or at least leave earlier than usual,” she whispered, placing a first soft kiss on his lips. “Tom can go home with Daniel, so we have en–”

Eager for the comforting touch of her lips, he kissed her deeply, even catching her off-guard with the intensity of his need to just feel her right now. After her surprise wore off, he could feel her respond to the kiss just as passionately, but still tender. Exactly what he needed right now. He wasn't going to give this up without a hard fight! This was what he wanted—her warmth, her comfort, and her kisses—all of her.

“Let's call it an evening and go upstairs,” she whispered, breathing heavily when she finally broke off.

He pressed another small kiss on her forehead, then let go of her. “Yes,” he said, smiling briefly. 

* * *

 

 

“Draco? How about this?” Helen pulled the curtain of her dressing cabin back, an expectant smile on her lips while while twirling; she had put on a simple emerald green shoulder-free pencil dress combined with a dark green bolero jacket. Her smile faded when she saw him gazing outside. “Draco?”

He startled when he heard his name being repeated in a more concerned tone. “What?” he asked, trying to put up a hopefully soft smile, even though he didn't feel like smiling right now.

“Everything okay? You're unusually quiet today...”

“I'm fine. Just tired.” He was telling her the truth, at least part of it. He was tired, almost back to his exhausted self before they had become a couple, just because his mind couldn't calm down at night ever since he had gotten the letter that his parents knew where he was.

Helen gazed at him intently for several seconds; he could see that she didn't believe him a word, but then she nodded and sighed. “Okay. Just don't bottle everything up, I'm here...”

Showing a faint but relieved smile, he nodded. “That looks good on you.”

“You think?” She twirled around once more to show him the dress from all sides. “Isn't it a bit much for the dinner tomorrow?”

“Still looks good on you. Put it on the list–”

“Really? I mean, that's about the third dress you've put on the list... And they aren't exactly cheap, my dear!” She took his hands in hers. "One dress is more than enough–"

"Helen, just let me do it, okay? I can afford to buy the shop if I wanted to..."

"Is this...?" She sighed, but then she nodded. "Okay, but just this once. And I don't need you to buy the whole shop for me."

"Miss?" The shop assistant came into the changing area, carrying another dress in a dark burgundy shade. "This one might be what you're looking for."

Helen turned towards her with a smile; she squeezed Draco's hands before letting go to take the dress from the shop assistant. "Thanks. You can put the green one on the list as well..."

"All right. If you could hand it to me, I can put it with the other dresses."

Helen nodded and returned to her changing room with the dark burgundy dress in her hand. "Just a minute."

Draco could hear her wiggle out of the dark green dress, which had indeed looked good on her, with the colour accentuating her eyes beautifully as well as making her skin glow. Despite loving the fact that he could treat her to a set of nice dresses, he wasn't in the mood to fully appreciate the beauty today.

"Nice of you to help your–"

"We're not related, and the rest is none of your business," he said coolly.

"Oh. I just tho–"

In that moment, Helen pulled the curtain back once more, a broad grin on her face. "This is perfect!" The dress was a dream—it went down to her calves, the sleeves covered her elbows, and the cleavage was high-cut. With a smirk, she turned around, only to reveal a low-cut backside. It was hugging her figure in the right places, and the colour made her skin shine.

"Yes, that's the one," Draco said with an approving nod, unable to keep his eyes off her. "Perfect."

"Right? And it flows so nicely... So soft!" Helen twirled, smiling happily.

"I'll add this to the rest as well, then," the shop assistant said. "Anything else I can bring you?"

"No, that would be all," Helen said, stepping back into the changing room, only to return seconds later. "Wait, yes, there is something. I saw that you have a men's department–"

"Helen, no!"

She shot him a glare, not taking _no_ for an answer. "This young man needs a bit more colour in his wardrobe. A set of new shirts in something else than just white, black, or green–"

"Helen!"

She came back out, reaching once more for his hands. "What's the matter?"

"I... Nothing."

"It's that letter." She squeezed his hand gently instead of a full hug in order not to crinkle the dress before it was bought. "Just let me return the favour, treat you to something nice as well. You've already done so much for me."

He nodded reluctantly. "Fine."

"Thanks." Helen pulled him down for a soft brush of her lips against his cheek. "I wished you told me about what's on your mind," she whispered when she let go of him.

"Not now," he replied and placed a peck on her forehead.

"Okay." She sighed. "Now, go find a nice shirt... I'll join you in a couple of minutes."

After a brief nod, he joined the shop assistant, who had made a few steps back for privacy, the green dress already in hand; walking away, he heard Helen fumble around in her things, followed by some beeping sounds.

"Val? Change of plans."

 

Redressed in her own clothes, Helen joined Draco shortly after in the men's department. “That doesn't look too bad,” she commented when she finally reached Draco, who was currently checking a shirt with a pale blue shade in the mirror. “I would have never thought blue would fit you.”

“You know that I prefer green and white, but I think this works too. It's subtle enough.”

“Yes. It brings out your eye colour nicely.” She came up to him and took over to close the last buttons, noticing the other shop assistant in the background with another set of shirts in hand. “Feeling a bit better?”

He nodded, his gaze fixed on his reflection in the mirror. “You talked to Val?” he asked. It had taken him a moment to realise that she had brought along her work phone, the cause for the beeping sounds. He had only seen it a few times at her place, as she usually kept it out of sight in her purse.

“Yes. I asked her if Tom could stay at her place tonight as well–”

“Why?” He reached for her hands that were resting on his chest to hold them; holding on to her like that helped him feel less as if his life was slipping from his grasp.

“Because I think I need to take care of you first, my dear. You've been like this for a few days now, ever since you received that letter about your parents.”

“You didn't have to do this.”

Helen simply smiled softly at his response. “Even Tom noticed, you know? He asked me if something was wrong between us when I put him to bed last night...”

“He didn't say a thing when we were playing after school. And I think he let me win on purpose.”

Helen chuckled lightly. “Yes, it's his way of cheering you up,” she said, leaning in for the briefest of reassuring hugs.

“Thanks. I'm sorry for ruining the afternoon.” Draco wrapped his arms around her to keep her in place, relishing for the longest of moments in the comforting feeling of her prickling touch.

“Oh, you can make up for it once we're home. I have my own ways of cheering you up, my dear. But now, let's try on the other shirt the assistant has for you...”

* * *

 

Saturday had Helen all nervous about the dinner invitation, going from being unsure about her dress to excited for the chance it presented. She kept fidgeting until they arrived at the Mistry's; Draco wouldn't admit it, but her restlessness provided a welcome distraction from his thoughts, only ever annoyed when she asked him if he was okay. He was okay, just worried.

“That is one big house,” Helen whispered when they arrived in front of the Mistry's home, ready to ring the bell.

“All about status,” Draco replied, chuckling. What would she say if she ever saw Malfoy Manor? The Mistry house was indeed impressive, but his childhood home was on a completely different level, and she would be gaping at the sheer size of it. Maybe one day she would be able to see it, but he doubted it. He still had to tell her about his heritage first. At least he now had an idea how to do it, and he had to do it soon.

“Well, hello you two!” It was Libby who answered the door. “Come in!” She was wearing a rather simple jumpsuit, again in blue; her hair was only casually bound together in a pony tail.

“Quite some place,” Helen said when she came inside, awing at the interior, Draco following behind her.

“We try to keep it as simple as we can.” Libby offered to take their coats to hang them up in the wardrobe. “Again, great dress.”

“Draco insisted on buying it.” Helen smiled in slight embarrassment and threw him a side-glance.

“You are spoiling her–”

“I'm not spoi–”

“You are. And I'm grateful for it.” Helen pressed an appeasing peek on his cheek. “You know that.”

“I'd spoil you even more if you let me,” he replied in a teasing whisper.

“Now, let's meet the others.” Libby let them through to the dining room, where Brandon and his parents were waiting, discussing some family matters over an aperitif—what looked like martini for the elder Mistry's and gin for Brandon.

“Mum, Dad, meet Helen and Draco,” Brandon introduced them, motioning towards them in a welcoming gesture. “Welcome to my house...”

“So, that's the couple from New Year's Eve at the Imperial you keep talking about,” the elder man said, a warm, amused smile directed at Brandon before he offered his hand to greet Helen. “Nice to meet you.”

“Helen, this is my father, Thomas Mistry. And my mother, Michelle.”

“And please, call me Thomas for tonight. No need for formalities...”

Helen smiled softly, her cheeks blushing, betraying her otherwise composed demeanour; Draco knew she was overly excited to meet the elder Mistry's, but she was professional enough to stay calm. “Nice to meet you too, _Thomas_.”

“Draco, right? Quite an unusual name,” Michelle said in the meantime with the same warm smile, offering her hand to greet him.

“I have heard that a lot ever since I moved here,” he replied with a polite smile. “Thanks for the invitation.”

“What can I offer you? Gin, martini, white wine?” Thomas asked when the exchange of welcoming pleasantries was done.

“Martini!” Helen said, her smile broadening while her hand searched for Draco's, only to give it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ve never really had one before.”

Unlike Helen, Draco wasn't really in the mood for a drink—even less so for a whole dinner. But the evening was about Helen and a possible new job for her, so he would play along for her sake. It wasn't the first time he had to fake emotions. “White wine.”

“To an interesting evening,” Thomas said when he handed them the drinks.

“To an interesting evening,” the others repeated, raising their glasses to a toast.

“So, Brandon told us that you were seated at the same table at the New Year's Eve ball?” Michelle continued, eyeing them both with benevolence. “You must have had quite a bit of fun then.”

“Oh, we did.” Helen nodded and took another sip from her Martini, trying to keep the pick out of her eyes. “It was a great evening!”

“You should've seen her dress, simply gorgeous,” Libby said, putting her glass on the small table. “Which reminds me... I have something for you.”

Everyone watched her leave the room, only to return moments later with an envelope in her hands.

“I don't think you got those...” Libby opened the envelope and handed Helen the first picture found inside. “Remember the photographer who made the rounds after your second dance? You were gone before he could write down which pictures were yours, so he asked us whether we wanted them as well.”

“This is perfect,” Helen whispered, showing the first picture to Draco beside her. It showed them on the dance floor, oblivious to their surroundings and moments before they kissed.

Draco nodded in agreement. For once, he found it perfect that the picture didn't move like wizarding photographs would—it was such perfect capture of that intimate moment between them. He would have to make a copy of it to keep with him.

“And such a gorgeous dress!” Michelle commented the pictures that Libby had handed her in the meantime, sharing them with her husband. “No wonder that the Warden's wouldn't stop talking about it when we met them at the ski resort a few days ago...”

“But this one is another favourite,” Libby said with an amused tone to her voice before handing the last picture to Helen.

“Oh God! I totally forgot about that!” Helen giggled when she saw the picture while Draco let out a small groan. “It's not so bad, my dear! You did laugh, after all, see?”

“Yes, I did,” he admitted, his lips slowly curling up in a smirk. He remembered the moment now—Helen made funny faces to make him laugh until he did eventually crack up, and the photographer must have caught that exact moment.

When Helen showed the picture to the others, they all laughed. “Oh, you definitely had fun that evening!” Michelle said, chuckling.

That was when the maid entered from the dining room next door. “The dinner is ready to be served now.”

 

After dinner, which had been an entertaining conversation about the New Year's Eve ball and the Mistry building company, Draco needed a break from it, wanting to take a step outside for some air.

He knew that Helen was enjoying the evening, based on her many chuckles and the way she had engaged in the conversation while he had mainly watched her, occasionally replying to a direct question by Brandon's mother, who had been curious about his background. Of course, he enjoyed the evening too, but he still felt out of place. The choking feeling in his throat didn't really help either, nor that he still feared everything would end sooner than he would have liked and against his wishes.

“Hey, there you are,” Helen said in a soft whisper when she stepped out on the balcony where he was leaning against the railing. “Everything okay?”

He nodded.

She sighed and reached for his hand. “I know you're not exactly yourself tonight, you're a bit more quiet than usual.”

“It's nothi–”

“It's not nothing, don't say that,” she stopped him, worry coming through in her voice. “I know you didn't sleep that much last night, you woke me up several times. You kept murmuring in your sleep, and I'm sure you had a nightmare at one point.”

“I'm fine.”

She shook her head, her fingers intertwining with his. “It's still that damn letter, right?”

Nodding, he pulled her closer. “I'm just worried, that's all,” he whispered when he wrapped his arms around her shoulder. “With my parents, it's not about _whether_ they show up, but rather _when_. And I don't know what they will be like. I simply don't know what to expect, and I just want to keep you safe.”

“It's going to be okay,” she replied, her voice muffled by his dress shirt.

He wished for that to be true, almost aching for it. “I just can't get it out of my head.”

“I know,” she replied and looked up with a soft, reassuring smile. “But you know that I won't let you go that easily, right? I can put up a mean fight if I have to. And believe me when I say that you'd be worth it.”

Draco chuckled at her resolve, feeling a small wave of relief rushing through his body. She wouldn't stand a chance against his mother, being a Muggle and all, but she still knew what he needed to hear—especially the part of being worth to be fought for. “Thanks.”

“How about getting back inside? Libby said dessert would be served soon, and I'd like to have you next to me if they really want to talk about a possible job offer. I feel more relaxed with your hand in mine.”

“I noticed,” he replied, stroking carefully over her back. “And you're starting to shiver.”

“It's January, so yes, I'm shivering.”

 

The dessert had already been brought to the dining room on a dessert trolley when they made it back to the dining room, with Helen holding Draco's hand tightly in hers, both for his comfort as well as hers.

“Welcome back!” Brandon said in amusement while filling a set of tumblers with an inch of whisky each. “I'm afraid the view isn't that great at this time of day. You should come back in May with everything in bloom.”

“That looks gorgeous!” Helen commented while taking her seat once more, licking her lips in anticipation.

“I wish I could say I made it,” Libby said, blushing lightly, “but our maid makes just such a delicious cheesecake, I had to ask her for one.”

“Now, to the business part of the dinner if you forgive me the expression,” Thomas said when Brandon served the tumblers, placing one in front of each dinner participant. He smiled when he saw Helen reach for Draco's hand and then take a deep breath. “Don't worry, my dear. I do trust my son very much when it comes to people. I want to add that, in your case, he wasn't exaggerating. You're just as charming and intelligent as he said you would be.”

“It means a lot coming from you,” Helen said, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

“It's true,” Brandon replied, leaning back. “Carlos had a very good hand in placing you at our table. He knows we're picky...”

“We’ve already talked quite a bit about your current job at the ball,” Libby said, taking up the thread of the conversation. “From what you told us then, your skills and knowledge are what we are looking for.”

“Oh God,” Helen murmured, placing her free hand on her lips.

“As we’ve already told you, we're considering to restructure our IT department, and you would be perfect to head this project, as well as the department later on.”

Speechless, Helen leaned back, her hand still placed on her lips. Her eyes wide in positive shock, she looked at Draco.

He nodded and leaned towards her, placing a peck on her cheek. “Isn’t that what you hoped for?”

“So, we only have a couple of questions regarding your education and your current work,” Thomas continued, smiling at them.

Over the next few minutes, Draco watched Helen talk about her education and her diplomas; he was actually impressed by her achievements as it showed a great ambition, though she had never hung the diplomas anywhere in her place. By now he understood the very basics of her job, but he was still easily lost whenever she tried to explain the details. At least she was relaxing more and more the longer she talked, as she loosened the tight grip on his hand.

“So, as a last question,” Thomas said, swaying his whisky tumbler in a playful manner. “What kind of expectations do you still have in life?”

Helen turned to Draco, her lips turning up into a big smile. “Over the last few months, I have had my life turned upside down, ever since I met Draco, so it's quite difficult to have any at the moment. All I can wish for right now is that my son is doing well in school and a job that I love and that I can give my best for. I have everything else.”

Returning the smile, he saw the Mistry's exchange looks and nods. “You did great,” he whispered and squeezed her hand.

“I feel like I forgot half of what I've done,” Helen whispered back, unable to stop grinning.

“Helen,” Thomas said, requesting their attention again. “We all agree when we say we would love to have you in our company in the position mentioned earlier. You would be a perfect addition.”

"Oh God," Helen said, nodding fiercely. "This is a unbelievable opportunity you're offering, and... I mean, Head of an entire IT department!"

“Just say yes,” Draco said, amused by her shocked reaction to something she had expected. “The rest will be sorted another day.”

“Like the young man said, we will settle details another day, including the notice period with your current employer.” Thomas leaned forward, sharing Draco's amusement about her reaction. “I am sure that you'll get a higher salary and probably rather flexible working hours, compared to your current employment at least.”

“Did you hear that? A higher salary,” Helen whispered, smiling as broadly as she could, and leaned towards Draco. ”Thank you. It wouldn't have been possible without your surprise.” She pressed a heartfelt kiss on his cheek.

“You don't need to thank me, thank them. They found you charming enough.”

“True.” She kissed his cheek once more, then turned her attention back to the Mistrys. “I'm sorry for my unprofessional reaction; I'm usually more composed than that, but it overwhelmed me more than I thought it would. Of course, I accept your offer! I'm so honoured that you considered me for this position...” She raised her tumbler for a toast. “To a new adventure.”

“To a new adventure.”

“Now, let's start dessert,” Libby said, digging into the piece in front of her, “or my maid will think we didn't like it.”

* * *

 

Despite Helen's best efforts, Draco couldn't stop thinking about the impending visit from his parents. He still appreciated all the things she did to cheer him up without pushing him too much to tell her why he couldn't get it out of his head. If only he could just pack things up and leave with them at his side, but he knew that it wasn't that easy. And it wouldn't be fair on her, either.

So, Monday, he found himself at his place again, visiting the room he had placed all his magical stuff in; he absentmindedly played with the wand in his hand while brushing over the books in the shelf that told him about what felt like a different age. It's been a little over six months since he moved here, and he felt like he had become a different person, having learned a lot about Muggles in general. Before that letter had arrived, he finally felt like he was in a good place, loved for who he was, not what he represented. He just hoped that Helen would take it well enough that he was a wizard, one who had done cruel things in the name of the War; he was only waiting for the weekend when Tom would be over at Daniel's to show her his world.

Still, he had better prepare himself for any eventualities in regards to his parents; he feared that they wouldn't hold back from hurting him or Helen to get him to come back, and he wanted to be able to defend himself in that moment. He pulled out his books on protective spells he still had from his Hogwarts years. A quick glance at the table of contents told him that there weren't any spells that completely fit what he needed, but the Muggle Repellent Charm might work with a few adaptations, though he would still need to ask Granger for permission to use this kind of magic in a Muggle neighbourhood.

It was frustrating. He still hadn't heard from her whether they had been successful in changing the wards to keep his parents from leaving the grounds of Malfoy Manor or about her finding the mole. He was stuck. Like a fucking sitting duck. Huffing, he placed the book on the small desk to work on it the next day, and instead Transfigured the settee into a mattress target after making the room soundproof. He wanted to practise a few spells, and this was the safest place to do so without being detected. But what he needed to practise first and foremost was Summoning his wand, preferably non-verbal.

“Stupefy!” he yelled, putting all his frustration and anger into the spell. Oh yes, this felt satisfying!

* * *

 

That evening, Helen came home with a broad smile on her lips, all excited to tell something. “Brandon and Thomas were in my company today,” she started while still trying to get out of her coat.

“That was fast,” Draco replied from the table where he was invested in another game of chess with Tom. It was a tough fight this time as both were close to winning now.

“Hello, sweethearts,” she said when she joined the table. “My boss was completely surprised to hear why they were making a visit because he first thought it was about the contract we have with them already.”

“And?” Draco asked, contemplating his next move.

“Hi, Mum! Homework is all done. Wasn't much anyway...”

“Good!” She watched Draco considering several possibilities, and then scrunched her face at his choice. “I think you just lost, my dear.”

“Might be. I already won the first round anyway... So, how did it go?”

She sat down next to Draco. “My boss called me to his office, as he couldn't believe what they'd come for. I told him that it was the truth, and that I hadn't yet had the time to tell him about me accepting the offer to work for them. He was positively shocked. Stammered something about ' _losing his best employee_ ', but he couldn't refuse the offer Brandon and Thomas made to take me over.”

“Sounds like you had a great day...”

“You've got a new job, Mum?”

She kissed Draco on the cheek and then nodded towards her son. “Fabulous day! Couldn't stop grinning. Still can't believe that it all happened because you wanted to treat me with that surprise for New Year's Eve...”

“When do you start there?” Tom asked curiously. “Tomorrow?”

“No, no, my dear. It's a bit more complicated than that. See, in my contract, it says that I would have to hand in my resignation a month before quitting the job, but they found a solution for that. I'm still surprised that the Mistry's would pay a takeover fee for me, but that's what happened. All I have to do now at my current job is prepare my files and clients for my colleagues to take over.”

“So, you start next week?” Draco asked, wrapping his arm around her shoulders while watching Tom defeating his king in one final move, and the smuggest grin the boy could do.

Helen nodded excitedly. “This all happened so fast, I still can't believe it! It's like a dream come true!” She kissed his cheek again. “I invited Brandon and Libby for dinner on Friday to celebrate a bit.”

“I won!” Tom cheered. “Now I'm hungry...”

“I'll see what I can make for dinner,” Helen said, getting up. “I'm feeling like pasta tonight. Tom, you put the chess board away, and I'll prepare the dishes for you to put up. Draco, I might need some _assistance_ in the kitchen–”

“Mum and Draco are kissing! Mum and Draco are kissing!”

“Cheeky bugger,” Draco said in amusement, following Helen into the kitchen.

“You look better tonight,” Helen said, once they were inside. “Though you were still tossing around last night.”

“I feel a bit better, yes.” Practising spells all afternoon until Tom was supposed to come back home had indeed helped with his mood as he could get his frustration out for once. “I'm sure I'll sleep better too.”

“I do hope so, my dear.” She pulled him down to tease him—first with her tongue brushing over his lips before she parted them for a deeper, longing kiss.

* * *

 

However, whatever plans Draco had, he got a violent reminder on Saturday evening how fragile luck can be, when a knock late at night interrupted him and Helen during a rare film night. It wasn't as if they were paying attention to the film, anyway, as Tom was already in bed, and they wanted to use the time alone for some making-out.

Helen sat in his lap and stopped her kissing in confusion when she heard the knock being repeated. “Who on earth would knock at this time of night?”

He shrugged and then pulled her back down to continue their kiss because right now he was much more interested in the feel of her lips against his than an impertinent neighbour. His hands had slipped underneath her top, happy to find that she wasn't wearing a bra.

But before they could continue, another knock was heard.

“Really?” Helen said in frustration, sitting up. “It was just getting good...”

“I know.” He kissed her jaw. Her grinding her hips into his always had him aroused in moments, knowing how good she felt; he had been looking forward to having her undressed in a matter of a few more minutes and cherish whatever skin he could access.

Helen climbed off him when a third knock was heard, sounding impatient this time. “I'm going to check what they want, then we can continue.”

Watching her walk over to the front door, Draco suddenly felt uneasy, and he couldn't shake it. Something wasn't right here because none of their neighbours would disturb them this late at night, even on a Saturday night. So, he got up and quietly Summoned his wand to be ready for anything.

“Oh, hello.” Helen opened the door and found a woman on her porch she didn't recognise, clothed in black, but the same blonde hair as Draco, and a look of cold fury in her almost black eyes. “I think you’ve got the wro–”

“Where's my son? I know you’re hiding him here...”

Draco immediately recognised the voice and jumped towards the door. “Helen, get out of the way. NOW! That's my mother!”

 


End file.
